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moonchildstyles · 1 year

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the witching hour

despite harry being the witch in this situation, maybe his crush on gemma's new friend was going to be the most bewitching thing he ever encountered

wordcount: 10k+

—————

"Are you just going to watch me set up or actually help?"

Harry couldn't help the bark of laughter that left his lips at his sister's jab. He stayed just where he was even when he felt the glare of her eyes on him as he continued the game of changing the contents of her flower vases every time Gemma flicked it back to water before the blooms died. He currently wanted to see how long it would take her to noticed he'd snapped spiked seltzer into the water's place.

"I don't know why you're worrying so hard, Gem," Harry sighed, sinking into the back of his stool where he sat at the breakfast nook, "Just cast a spell and make everything set itself up. It would take 3 minutes compared to the three hours you've been stressing over this."

He didn't have to see his sister's face to know she was rolling her eyes hard enough their mother would have chided her, saying they were going to get stuck that way if she kept it up. "Sorry, I try not to rely on my magic, like you. Is it so bad I want everything to be perfect? This is the first time we're not living with the coven—or even near them. I want these people to like us, Harry."

"And they're going to," Harry cemented, just as he had been since his sister started worrying over the opinions of the mortals that were now their neighbors, "We're giving them free drinks and food, there's no way they aren't going to like us—like you."

"That's not a guarantee, Harry," Gemma argued, twisting in her spot so he could see just how exasperated he was making her. Her expression fell flat when she noticed the bubbling soda water soaking her roses. She shot him a glare that was only deflected by Harry's grin. "Could you at least try to be on your best behavior tonight? It's going to be hard to stay in the HOA if they realize you're a dick and a witch."

"I always am," he said with a cocky grin stretching his lips. Not a complete lie, but definitely not the truth.

Gemma shook her head before she brushed past him, a large crystal bowl full of ice in her hands. "You don't have to come tonight, you know. You could go do something with Mitch or whoever; leave the house to me and I'll just tell everyone how nice my brother is without you contradicting everything I tell them."

"I invited Mitch to come tonight, so I think he'd be a bit busy." Harry's voice was breezy as he kept an eye on his sister. He needed to find the right moment to fill the vases with almond milk when she wasn't looking. "If I didn't know any better, I would feel like you don't want me there, Gems."

"You're not even dressed up, Harry! Do you even want to be at the party?"

"Yes, I am dressed up," Harry argued, a pinch knitting his brows together as he sat up straight in his seat.

"No, you're not," Gemma countered as she climbed on top of a chair with a strip of led lights in her hand she was planning on tacking along the line of the ceiling, "You look like normal."

With an exaggerated wave of his fingers, deep purple nail polish glittering in the light, he gave her another self-satisfied grin. "Exactly," he said, "'M dressed like a witch."

That seemed to finally get his sister to crack a smile, a matching dimple in her cheek making an appearance. As much as he loved to tease his sister, especially now that they were living together for the first time away from their family, he didn't want her to feel like he wasn't supportive of her or messing with her just for the sake of pushing her buttons, and not because he was trying to ease her nerves. Sure, the former was a part of it, but he was here to support her and make her days easier, especially knowing how much she was missing their coven.

"You're annoying," his sister laughed, using a flick of her fingers to keep the strip light held up to the wall while she fixed them to the crease between the ceiling and the walls, "Are you going to change before the party, or is that really your costume?"

"You'll jus' have to wait and see." And, so would Harry. He had no idea if Mitch was actually going to follow through on the corn costume they had been joking around about a few weeks prior, because if he was, then Harry had agreed to dress like a pad of butter. "Who's all coming tonight?"

"Well, I sent out that mass invitation on the HOA's Facebook page, so hopefully a lot of neighbors we haven't met yet. But, I also invited a couple of the girls from work and people from that record store you like. One of the girls from my yoga class said she'd try to ma—"

"Was it (Y/N)? The one from your yoga class." Harry didn't even pretend to care about how eager he sounded cutting her off. He needed to know if (Y/N) was going to be there.

On more than one occasion in the last couple of months since moving to the neighborhood, Harry had picked up Gemma from her yoga classes after he finished with his spinning sessions, and without fail there was always this girl that walked out with his sister. After that first time he saw her, Harry couldn't help but begin to look forward to picking up Gemma if only for a moment's glance at her friend.

Maybe it was the sweat that clung to her skin after the workout, but Harry swore she was covered in stars, glimmering in the light, even when it was after one of the late classes with only the moon above. Without fail, there was always a sweet smile on her face when he spied her, quiet while she listened to his sister talk about whatever, or growing brighter when she told her own stories. One time, he was able to hear her laugh after he had cracked the windows, and maybe his breath had been stolen at the sound, but he would never tell Gemma that. He wanted to get to know her as more than the pretty face that always escorted Gemma to his car after classes and gave him a polite wave before heading towards her own way home.

"Harry," Gemma sighed, settling her hands on her hips as she gave him a pointed glare.

"What? 'M jus' asking!"

His sister rolled her eyes, the fake lashes she'd glued to her eyes fluttering at the familiar movement. "She's my friend, Harry, you're not allowed to date her! We already share a house, I'm not letting you have my friends, too."

"Would it really be that bad, Gems? I'm a gentleman, wh—"

"If you fuck her and she stops talking to me like what happened with Meredith, I'm seriously going to be so pissed at you. She's much more fun than Mere, so she's completely off limits if you don't want me to tell mum."

Harry groaned at the mentioning of his sister tattling on him to their mom. "How was I supposed to know she was a virgin beforehand? If she had told me, I wouldn't have put my—"

"I don't need to hear that story again!" Gemma shouted over him, cutting him off. Stepping off the chair she'd used as her ladder, she gave him one more look as the room filled with a cool purple glow from the lights she'd just pinned up. "Just be nice to her, Harry. At least let me see if she wants something serious or whatever, so if she does, you can leave her alone and not hurt anyone's feelings."

"Deal," Harry rushed out. He could work with that. "So I can talk to her tonight?"

A sigh puffed her lungs, though she didn't offer any answer.

"Jus' one dance, at least, Gems. I won't bother her after that, unless she wants to talk to me. I promise."

That look only his protective older sister could give him crossed her features. He knew even through all her protests and claims to be protecting her friendships, that this was also in part of caring for her baby brother that sometimes felt too deeply, too quickly, for people who weren't in the same boat as him.

"Just one dance, then. If she even comes tonight."

Sinking back into his chair as Gemma continued to flutter around the house, cheesy decorations in hand, a satisfied grin slipped into place on Harry's face. Knowing that (Y/N) was coming now, he really hoped Mitch didn't pull through with the corn costume.

—————

The purple glow Gemma had set up to emanate through the house was the perfect touch, Harry realized as he lent back against the breakfast nook, the view of the main space of the house perfect for him as he people-watched. Her invitation had apparently garnered interest in the entire neighborhood as Harry was able to pick out the faces of most of their neighbors and those who lived in the apartments bordering their subdivision. It felt like a teen movie, the comparison making Harry laugh, with the way alcohol was distributed out in novelty plastic cups with ghouls and ghosts printed on the sides, the contents of the glasses sloshing with the way people were dancing to the music that'd progressively become louder the more crowded the space got.

Costumes of every type littered the room. A group of zombies were huddled by the backdoor, a pair of angels throwing shapes on the makeshift dance floor in the living room, and the Powerpuff girls along with a few of their most iconic villains had made an appearance as well. Amongst the groups and couples, single costumes of television characters, celebrities, and era specific getups were dotted throughout, coming together to make the perfect picture of Halloween. Parties like these were only fun when people weren't too full of themselves to dress up. As much as he played around with Gemma earlier, even Harry made a point to conjure up a costume (after he got the confirmation that Mitch had completely blown off the deal with the corn costume, of course).

While it wasn't that creative given his identity, he couldn't help himself as he cast his spells and made a black pointed hat to sit on his head, his getup all black with fringed veils and bats stitched into the lace overlay on his flared pants. A well dressed witch, he had told Gemma when she rolled her eyes as he descended the stairs with a flourish just before guests started to arrive. As much as his sister wanted to disagree, call him out for not actually dressing up for the party, he knew she was going to see if she could make an outfit just like that soon enough.

Speaking of his sister, he found her in the sea of guests, picking her out from the cat ears she had perched on the top of her head. She had been dragged into the fray of the dancefloor by her friends, leaving Harry to play the host with the most while she finally let loose. He didn't mind going around, greeting their neighbors and introducing himself while he nursed his own drink, knowing Gemma needed a break from all her worrying about making a good impression on these people. (Plus, he was given a slew of compliments on his outfit everywhere he went, so he was getting something out of this as well). By the time the party was in full swing, the constant in-pouring of guests slowing to a near halt, he was glassy eyed with his third drink in hand (he hadn't realized how much tequila he was pouring in until he realized he was just doing magic out in the open as he flicked his fingers to clean up the spills that littered the counter) while he watched his new home being filled with the laughter and mischief that he had been missing since moving away from the coven.

But, there was one thing missing.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Mitch mumbled behind the rim of his cup, lent up against the counter with Harry.

"Hm?" Harry hummed, his reaction delayed as he looked to his friend.

"You've been watching the door for the last, like, five minutes. Are you waiting for someone?" he asked again, substantially less drunk than his counterpart.

Harry didn't even realize he had his gaze trained on the front door until it was pointed out, making a point to whip his head back to face his friend, witch hat askew on the top of his head. "Oh, sorry," he murmured, not at all sorry, "Gem's friend was supposed to come, but she's not here yet."

"The yoga one?" Mitch's dark brows were raised over his eyes. Harry didn't have even an ounce of embarrassment in him over the fact he'd told Mitch so much about her, that he knew immediately which of Gemma's friends he was looking forward to seeing.

Nodding into his cup as he sipped down another mouthful, Harry hummed. "Yeah, that one. I finally got Gemma to lay off some and let me talk to her if she came tonight."

"Even after what happened with Meredith?" Harry could have rolled his eyes at the mention of the name. As far as he could remember, everything with Mere wasn't even that bad.

"Yes," Harry sighed, taking another gulp of his drink when the doorknob on the front door didn't even twitch, "But, 's not like anything will happen if she doesn't show up."

"I'm sure she will," Mitch reasoned, "It's still early in the night anyway, and she could have been stopping off at other part—"

Harry didn't mean to cut Mitch off, but he couldn't help the way he choked on his drink the second the unlocked front door opened to reveal (Y/N) tentatively peeking into the party. He sputtered on the alcohol that burned in the back of his throat, aware of Mitch's hand slapping between his shoulder blades as he tried to suck in a breath though he couldn't find it in himself to tear his watery eyes from where she stood.

"Is that her?" Mitch mumbled once Harry caught his breath, following his line of sight to the girl quietly shutting the door behind her as if the noise would disturb the loud music and rowdy set on people on the stairs.

The breathy yeah he gets out is complimented by the soft smile stretching his lips. She was even dressed as a witch, he realized—a Stevie Nicks-era witch with gauzy fabrics and twinkling beads, but a witch nonetheless. He even spotted the purse hanging over her shoulder, stylized to be a witch's spell book with the name and the silhouette of a crescent moon stitched in gold over the black leather. Nice to know she, at the very least, would be fascinated by his culture.

"That's kind of funny," Mitch pointed out, nodding his chin in her direction as if Harry could have forgotten where she was, "She's dressed like you—a witch."

Mitch was privy to the secret he and Gemma harbored, having met Harry in college. Being Mitch's roommate made it hard for Harry to keep himself in check, so after Mitch walked in on him concocting potions for the third time, he had to come clean.

"'S cute," he mumbled out, dropping his drink off on the counter behind him when he determined he was going to talk her. "I'll be ri—"

Just as he took a single step in her direction, he heard the sound of his sister's voice bubbling over the loud music filling the house. "(Y/N)! You made it!"

He could tell she was plastered by the way she didn't even look a little embarrassed at the way she stumbled over her feet and a splash from her cup spilled her suede boots as she toddled to her friend. (Y/N) was much more reserved in her answer, nodding her head and speaking quietly while giving Gemma a hug. Harry watched as his sister tugged her to the kitchen, surely getting her a drink while he stood back, reaching behind him to take another swig of his drink.

"What were you saying?" Mitch prodded, entirely too proud at seeing Harry's advances squandered for the time being.

"Shut the fuck up."

—————

Maybe Harry needed to be a little bit more careful, knowing he was leaning a little bit closer into tipsy territory than the comfortable buzz he'd been at earlier, but he couldn't help himself.

(Y/N) was practically the center of the dancefloor as far as he was concerned. Her smiling face with her styled hair being tossed around to frame her features was the beacon in the middle of the muddled purple and orange hued living room, the music being an afterthought when her laughter was the main song that had Harry's heart thumping. He couldn't help himself as he traced his finger in the air, manipulating the beams of warm orange light to sit right on her as if it were a spotlight for the headlining performer. He just wanted a better view of her.

Though he hadn't had a single chance to talk to her all night, that didn't mean he didn't keep an eye on her during that time. Not once, even with all the dancing and pushing happening on the packed danced floor, had her drink spilled, not with the way Harry ensured that every unbalanced raise of her cup was corrected with a trace of his finger in the air. She didn't go thirsty either, an enchantment keeping her cup full so she wouldn't have to stop having fun. He kept her spirits high even when Mitch teased Harry for being so invested in her time away from him; he didn't mind, not when each one of his tricks paid off, her smile glowing bright like the full moon outside.

As the time ticked passed midnight, Halloween night technically over as the first of November had started twenty-three minutes prior, Harry didn't see their party ending any time soon. The main room was still packed, drinks still flowed in the kitchen, and every time he went around with a tray of shots for the guests to enjoy there wasn't a single glass left over. Though no new attendees had arrived after (Y/N), he hadn't seen many leave either. The energy filling the house had his aura turned up high, feeding off of the high enthusiasm exuding from each of his new friends. He didn't want it to end.

While he was soaking in the fun of the space, a playlist going on in his head that had him touching his finger to the air as he added track after track to the running queue that played from the bass-heavy speakers, Harry hadn't realized he'd lost track of (Y/N) until he couldn't see her in the crowd. Gemma and her friends—including a pretty brown haired girl dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz that had Mitch currently wrapped round her with softened eyes—were still out on the floor, bubbly, bright, and loud as ever even with their missing piece. But, Harry had trained the orange spotlight to follow whatever which way she swayed. He just had to find the pumpkin glow and the witch standing underneath it.

"I like your pants!"

Harry jumped in his spot at the sound of the chirped voice bubbling off behind him. His vodka-dredged reflexes had him turning on his heel, the movement a lot slower than he intended. The orange light hit his hooded gaze first, a squint of his eyelids making him focus on the figure before him until details surfaced.

With her hair a pile on the top of her head, stray strands plastered to her temples and neck with the sheen of sweat that covered her skin, stood his wannabe witch. (Y/N)'s gaze was cloudy as she took him in, though she seemed to be much more attentive than him. The gauzy sleeves of her costume were drooping down her shoulders, giving him more glimmering skin to drag his lazy eyes across if he hadn't been so wide-eyed surprised that she'd found him before he even had a chance to properly look for her.

"Thank you," he choked out, remembering her chirped compliment in greeting.

"Yeah, of course!" she beamed back, all but bouncing in her spot though he was sure she wasn't even aware she was doing so, "You're Gemma's friend, right? I've seen you pick her up from yoga before."

So he hadn't been imagining the way her eyes would linger, even after giving a polite wave goodbye. "'M her brother, yeah," he clarified, leaning forward so he wouldn't have to shout to get his words across.

"You're Harry!" (Y/N) bubbled, features lighting up with recognition, "She's talked about you before!"

"And I'm sure it was all terrible," Harry joked, though knowing Gemma it wouldn't be that far off if she spilled all of his bad habits with her pretty friend, "You're (Y/N), right?"

"No, no, no," (Y/N) shook her head, hands out as if to ward him off, "She always talks about how funny you are, never anything bad! I didn't realize that was you picking her up those nights, I would have said hi earlier."

"'S alright," he waved off, thinking it was cute how excited she got when she drank. He was much closer to the mellow end of the spectrum when it came to alcohol. A perfect balance between the two of them, he thought.

"And, yes, I am (Y/N), by the way," she laughed at herself as she caught up to his earlier question, leaning into the counter beside him. He hoped Gemma wasn't paying attention enough to catch the way he turned to face her, giving her the full of his attention with his cup being pushed to the wayside.

"Gems talks about you all the time," Harry mused, talking quietly enough she had to crane her neck and shuffle closer to hear.

"She does?!" was (Y/N)'s awed response, her eyes sweetly rounding out as she gazed up at him. "She's, like, my best friend. That yoga class always sucked before she started coming—it's all so cliquey, and I never got invited to the after class drinks the instructor would put on."

A pout puffed out Harry's lips as he reached across, settling his hand carefully on her plush hip. "That's not nice. But, Gems talks about you like you're her best friend, too. 'M happy she has you; I was worried when we moved out here. She can be a little nervous trying to make friends, but she says y'were the first one to put your mat down by her and not make her feel bad when she couldn't hold some of those bendy poses."

"Some of them are really hard," (Y/N) nodded, sipping from her cup though there was little left behind the guise of ghosts and goblins printed on the plastic as his enchantment on her drink wore off. "But, what about you?" she chirped, wobbling some as she bounced in his hold, "Do you have any best friends here yet?"

Dimples deep in his cheeks, Harry could feel the muscles beginning to grow sore the longer he talked to her. "M'old university roommate lives out here, so I've been getting to hang out with him a lot more now that he's close. Actually," Harry paused, peering out at the sea of dancers taking over his living room, "he's over there"—pointing to where Dorothy and a costume-less Mitch were dancing—"with your friend."

"With Sarah?!" (Y/N) blurted, eyes growing wide, "Your friend is the one that's too cool to dress up?"

Harry laughed at her chiding. "Well, it was either that or a corn outfit—I personally think he picked wisely. If he'd picked otherwise, I promised I'd match him as some butter, so I think it worked out better for everyone this way."

He only caught a glimpse of her features lighting up, mouth dropping into a smiling gape before their attention was stolen away. Somehow, over the volume of the music, his sister managed to yell (Y/N)'s name loud enough to be heard. With a gasp and her hair fluttering behind her as she whipped her head in the direction of Gemma's voice.

Following (Y/N)'s line of sight, Harry caught his sister's eye as she beckoned (Y/N) with a flick of her hand to come back. The gloss of her eyes made it clear she was leaning on the side of drunk though the second she made eye contact with Harry, that pout turned hard. The glare of her gaze was quick, the same kind of look the would have fire sprouting from her fingertips if they hadn't been in the middle of a party. She was mad, mad that he was taking advantage of the permission he had been given earlier to speak to her pretty friend. With (Y/N)'s attention placed elsewhere, Harry only shrugged with a lopsided smile on his lips.

Giving a small nod to Gemma, having disregarded the squinted look she gave to her brother, (Y/N) started curling out of Harry's hold. Just as he dropped his hand from her hip, the warmth of her skin lingering on his palm, she grabbed for his hand. Lacing her fingers between his, she gave a gentle tug as she edged towards the dancefloor.

"Come dance with me," she requested in a smiley voice.

"Don't know if m'sister would like that much, but I don't think I really care," he told her, his dimple sinking deeper into his cheek as he solidified his hold on her hand.

"What do you mean?" she asked as he came up beside her, a pinch knotting her brows together.

He traced his gaze over her features before tugging her along through the mass of their neighbors dancing in his living room, eyes lingering over the height of her dewy cheekbones. "She's worried 'm gonna like you a little too much, love, that's all."

Once close enough, Harry used his grip on her hand to tug her in front of him, chest to chest with Gemma standing behind (Y/N). It didn't take his sister long to reach for (Y/N)'s shoulder, black painted nails wrapping around the slope as she tugged on her dress.

"Is my brother bothering you?" Gemma shouted over the music, absently taking a sip of her drink.

"Harry?" (Y/N) bubbled, her hand in his squeezing as she tossed a glance at him, "No, no! I asked him to come dance with us. Is that okay?"

At the mention of his tagalong being (Y/N)'s idea, he could see the way Gemma begrudgingly reined herself in. "Okay," she relented, "Let me know if he starts being annoying, though. He does that sometimes."

(Y/N) laughed off her offer, muttering something to Gemma that Harry couldn't hear before she was placing her attention on him once more. On instinct, she moved along with the song, trailing her grip on his hand to land further up his arm while the other still had her drink.

Feeling her warmth pressed against him, her smiling lips and bright, glossy gaze directed up at him, Harry felt his heartstrings tug. She really was so pretty, and here he had her tucked against his chest with his touch warming her. There was something to be said about the sparks flittering through his system, the ripples reminiscent of the magic that was a part of his being. It was easy to give in to the moonbeam that had accidentally just stepped on his toes.

"What?!" she bubbled off, standing on her tiptoes when she noticed he was too distracted to dance with her.

Shaking his head, he brought his hand up and brushed a stray piece of hair that brushed the top of her cheekbone. "Nothing, darling."

He swore he saw her eyes sparkle.

—————

Harry didn't mind using magic to make his life easier in mundane ways, but this wasn't something he could use a flick of his wrist to fix. At least not without exposing both him and his sister to their entire neighborhood.

"Come with me, darling. Let's go to the bathroom and see what we can do, yeah?" His grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened as she wobbled on her feet trying to follow behind him.

He could hear the murmured okay coming from behind him, her mournful voice indicative of the pout he was sure was on her lips. Even without looking behind him, he was sure her gaze was still stuck on the spill dripping down the front of her dress, brightly colored liquor and juice staining the creamy white of her costume. Someone had bumped her just right when she had her drink huddled between their chests, knocking her cup askew and sending the contents down her chest.

While Harry could simply snap his fingers and lift the stain from the fabric without even a single dot of the shockingly blue juice remaining, he knew that wasn't a wise choice, even in his tequila touched brain. Instead, he was forced to clench his fist to keep from instinctively raising his fingers with a spark of magic on the tips, and escort (Y/N) to the bathroom. While it seemed the patrons of the party had began to spread out, some finding refuge in the backyard as well as waves realizing there were snacks set out in the kitchen for them to munch on, the space was still packed beyond comfort. Harry knocked people out of the way as gently as he could, mumbling sorry's and excuse me's with a soft smile on his face.

Making it to the restroom, he knocked with his ear pressed to the wood. When no response came with (Y/N) shuffling uncomfortably behind him, he forged forward, jumping back as soon as he saw a blonde on their knees with their companion's thighs spread and head thrown back. Gemma definitely did not need to know that happened in their bathroom.

"Shit, sorry!" he blabbered out before swinging the door shut as quickly as he could, his grip on (Y/N)'s hand still tight.

Turning around, he saw his wannabe witch looking with wide eyes and her mouth dropped in a small gap. Their eyes met for a moment, flicking back to the unassuming door that was the only shield between them and someone else's intimate moment before matching once more.

It was (Y/N) that cracked first, a choked laugh snapping from her lungs before she was melting into her giggles with her eyes fluttering closed. Harry couldn't help but to follow suit, the embarrassing moment combining with the amount of alcohol in his system to draw out a matching set of laughter.

"Did they even see you?" (Y/N) got out, doubling over with her forehead pressing into Harry's chest. He could feel her warmth through the sheer fabric covering his torso, only the piping of the spiderweb motif stitched through the mesh separating them.

"I don't think so," Harry breathed out, his nose brushing the strands of her hair as he curled into her, "And I think the one on the floor was dressed like a Minion. I feel like that should be illegal."

His extra details only served to steal (Y/N)'s breath further as she succumbed to her laughter and all but fell into Harry's arms. It was ridiculous, the whole situation, but Harry only laughed as much as he did because he couldn't help but feel infected by her energy. Her reaction was his favorite part.

As she slowly caught her breath, Harry ducked down with his lips hovering by her ear. "We still need to get y'cleaned up, love," he reminded his moonbeam, "The only other bathroom is upstairs. Can I take y'up there with me?"

She didn't hesitate before she was nodding her head, unfurling herself from around him though neither of their goofy smiles dissipated. Along with her grip on his hand, (Y/N) reached to grab for the hem of his top in her fist, keeping close as he escorted her to the stairs leading up.

Despite being only a floor above and hallway away from the noise, the second floor felt significantly more peaceful that the party raging on below. Luckily, no one seemed to have dared to go above and peek around the bedrooms for anywhere to conduct their own private times, leaving his bedroom free and clear for him to take (Y/N) to the adjoining bathroom.

It wasn't until he was pushing open the unassuming white door that he remembered how not normal he had the space. While he and Gemma were considered to be apart of a very modern generation of those who were gifted with the Craft, that didn't mean he didn't appreciate the aesthetic and traditions of the past. That was why his room could be considered something of a lair if Gemma got to teasing him.

Heavy drapes covered his available walls, blocking out the asylum white painting the plaster with ornate weavings of star maps and whirling designs baring crests and traditional scenes unique to his home coven. Shelves were nailed to the walls with bookcases propped up on either side of his potion table, the planks of purple painted wood holding volumes and tomes of spell books, diaries of witches before him, and his own detailings of magical happenings he planned on passing to his own coven when he formed one. In between the clusters of books were vials and flasks, tubes and containers all holding various ingredients to his most used potions. While they weren't readily available at a Whole Foods or farmer's markets, his shelves were still stocked to the brim of newt's tongue, friar's goo, and pixie clippings. Some bottles were glowing in the low light, others boiling without any heat beneath, and the rest standing atop the wood with clear views as to what was held inside. His bed had been an afterthought in the design process, leaving the mattress to float from the floor with the help of an incantation after Harry didn't feel like picking out a proper frame and boxspring to go along with the bedding. He hadn't planned on inviting anyone to his bedroom, so he didn't bother to will away any of the less than mortal items dotted throughout.

Making a point to slow himself down with a calculated trip over his own feet, Harry flicked his fingers with a mumbled incantation under his breath. The vials were now replaced with the illusion of wildflowers and different decorations filling the glasses, his spellbooks guised as classics, and bed now held up with he help of a cherry-wood frame. The glamour rippled into place just in time as (Y/N) stumbled in beside him.

"Are you okay?" she giggled out, her attention solely on him after his fake stumble.

"'M alright, yeah," he agreed with a breathy laugh, "Jus' drank a little more than I thought, I guess."

(Y/N) accepted his explanation readily with a giggling nod of her head. Pulling her along with him, Harry showed her to the bathroom, opening the door with a flourish. Working together, they came up with a drunken plan to try to wipe the stain out using some soap and washcloths he had stored under his sink. All it took was a few swipes over the soaked stains to realize they weren't going to get too far with this method.

"Do you have bleach or something we could put on it?" (Y/N) murmured with a furrowed brow, her hands holding the top of her costume taut as she worked on the bust, and Harry the skirt.

"Not while it's on you," he told her absently, making a conscious effort to keep from using his magic to buff away the electric blue on her dress. Harry didn't realize she'd stopped her efforts until he looked up from where he was wiping away with a still pristine—though soapy—flannel, (Y/N) no longer matching his buffing. "What?" he asked when he matched her gaze.

"Do you have anything I can wear while we bleach it?"

Harry blinked as he processed her question. She wanted to wear his clothes?

"Are y'sure, love? 'S gonna take a while to get the stain out even with bleach, and we'd still have to rinse and dry it. 'S already really late."

Her answer came with the help of a shrug. "It's already, like, one a.m. anyway. What's a few more hours?"

A smile grew on his features at her nonchalance. She was cute.

"Alright," he said, standing to the full of his height, "I'll grab y'something and y'can get changed while I take your stuff to the laundry. That alright?"

The perky nod she gave him was enough to have him backing out of the bathroom with his dimples poking into the apples of his cheeks. Harry gazed through rose-tinted glasses as he rifled through his dresser, looking for his softest sweats and most comfortable top to let her wear while he feigned the act of running her costume through the wash (now that he suggested the timeframe, he kind of had to stick to it despite the fact he was going to have the stain out in two seconds flat with a quick spell). Landing on a pair of emerald green sweatpants and a slouchy black top, he returned to the bathroom to find (Y/N) untwisting her hair from the ornate clip she had stashed in the strands.

"Thank you!" Her voice was a chirp as she smiled up at him, the clothes being bundled to her chest after taking them from his offered hand. "I'll be out in a second, H."

The dazed nod of his head came just before she shut the door to give herself some privacy in his bathroom. Harry didn't even think before he was sinking into the edge of his bed, gaze stitched to the jamb of the door to watch for any changes in the sliver of light peeking through, any sign of her coming back to him.

Before tonight, Harry had thought she was pretty, sure. He wanted to get to know her, of course, but he couldn't say his attraction went further than the pretty face that was presented to him every time he picked up his sister, especially with only a few stories here and there shared by Gemma that explained some of the sweet character that made up (Y/N). But after this, getting to know her while she danced with him, flirting and playing while giving up tidbits of herself and the life she had outside of that yoga class, Harry could feel the cocoon of butterflies infiltrating his stomach.

This was one of Gemma's friends Harry could understand where she was coming from with her attempts to fend him off and away from her. She was entirely too good for him, he was realizing. Even with her drunken mouth, not once had a soured word left her lips. Her unfiltered thoughts were just as kind and bubbly and Gems had talked her up to be.

But, while he could understand he may not be the kind of perfection that should be gifted to a woman like (Y/N), that didn't mean he wasn't going to try anyway. Part of lacking perfection meant he made up for it with a smidge of selfishness.

The second (Y/N) was twisting the knob and pushing the door open, Harry rose to his feet, ready to dote on her and fix every problem she might present to him. Dressed in his dark clothing, seeing the fabric adorning her body was a stark contrast to the creams and pastels he'd grown accustomed to seeing her in, especially compared to the ethereal white dress she'd had draped over her the whole night.

Emerald green sweats dragged over the stained hardwood under her feet as she stepped out of the bathroom, the wad of white and blue fabric balled up against her chest while her hair had been clipped back, the twist refined and cleaner than how she'd had it tied back before. Her makeup wasn't quite as perfect as he was sure it had been at the start of the night, the shine of her skin peeking through the layer of powders and pigments she had distributed with her lashes losing the high curl he'd met her with. But, Harry liked those peeks at the less-than-perfect (Y/N) beneath; he liked every version of her.

"Thank you, again, Harry," (Y/N) sighed, the glassy lacquer over her eyes shining in the low light of his bedroom, "You're sure it's alright if I stick around until my clothes are clean?"

"Of course," he answered on instinct, canting his head to the side, "We'll jus' have to stay up here and hide, I think. I hear some people around here are real sticklers about having a costume."

Catching the joke at her expense with the way she had reacted at Mitch not having dressed up, (Y/N) let out a peal of laugher, boosting his ego at the high reaction to his mid-level joke. When she leveled out, though her eyes were still creased and squinted at the width of her smile, she placed a gentle hand on his arm that effected his balance more than he would have liked to admit. "It's alright if I crash in your room then? I promise as soon as my stuff is done, I'll be right out, though!"

"More than alright with that, darling. Y'don't need to worry about rushing out, either," he cemented, the words sounding a lot dreamier than he meant, "I was getting tired down there, anyway. And we can actually talk up here; 's quiet."

(Y/N)'s features softened at the mention of her taking her time with him, getting a moment to stay and speak with him without a time limit.

With her looking up at him like that, it took effort for him to excuse himself with her stained costume in hand, keeping up the facade of depositing it in the laundry room and working to get the stain out with all the bleach and detergent he had. He left his room with slow steps, more than one glance tossed over his shoulder as he saw her venture towards his glamoured bookshelf. A look of wonder crossed her face when he was sure she wasn't aware he was watching.

It was that vision that tided him over as he trekked to the laundry room, following the motions until he reached the space. Forgoing the bleach and whatever else she figured he would use to help resurrect the fabric, Harry only brushed the pads of his fingers over the electric blue stain, a warmth following after as the incantation muttered under his breath took effect. Before his eyes, the blue sucked itself in, reducing the long draw that started on the bodice of her dress and down to the mid of her skirt until it was nothing more than a tiny dot on the waist that flickered away in a blink. In pristine condition, Harry plucked at the dress by the shoulders and held it up.

Perfect.

In order to maintain the facade, he carefully hung up the garment in the laundry room, figuring he at least had another hour to spend with a quick break between so he could pretend to throw the dress into the dryer. The time it took him to make his way to the laundry room had been cut in half on his way back, eager to return to the wannabe witch in his quarters.

Pushing open the slightly cracked door, he found (Y/N) on his bed with one of his vials in hand and a book splayed open on the mattress. She looked up at him with bright eyes when she realized he had returned.

While his illusions were strong, able to trick the eye of even the most skeptical of witches, that didn't mean they could hold up against someone digging their fingers through the veil. The spell could only do so much when whoever was gazing upon it went looking for answers.

"Harry!" she bubbled off, practically bouncing in her spot with the mattress creaking underneath.

"W-What are y'looking at, love?" he asked her, voice cautious as he took measured steps towards her. While she didn't seem particularly disturbed by what she found, he didn't want to spook her if she happened to be teetering on the edge.

"One of those books on your shelf," she smiled, pointing at a passage on the worn page in front of her, "You really go all out, don't you?"

Crawling onto the bed beside her, Harry peered over her shoulder at the book. A spell for how to grow a witch's garden, complete with a guide for the best seeds for beginners and an illustration with different critters growing out of a soiled plot. This was a good one; he used this one a lot in college when he was too broke to go out and get his potion ingredients. It had been hard to hide from Mitch before he knew, though.

"What do you mean?" Harry pressed, feeling sober as he sussed out where she was coming from.

"For Halloween," she stated, a 'duh' tone to her words, "With all your decorations, I mean. Where did you even find something like this?"

Harry deflated on the spot when he realized she thought this was all apart of his costume, his commitment to the holiday stretching as far as filling his bedroom. "Oh yeah," he sighed, a gently nod of his head having his curls swaying around his face, "'S my favorite time of year, what can I say."

"I can tell," (Y/N) laughed, turning the page of the book with a vial of lavender's blood in her hand, "It's like a witch's lair in here. All you're missing is one of those big pots."

"A cauldron?" Only the head of the coven had one of those.

"Yes, that! Where they make all their potions and cook kids for dinner, and everything." The way (Y/N) muttered those details, her words could have been taken as fact. If he got far enough, he knew he would have a lot of fun dispelling all of the myths floating around her pretty head.

"I'll have to think of that for next year. Definitely not really selling the whole witch thing without it, am I?" Propping himself up beside her with a hand sinking into the mattress behind him, Harry settled into his spot. With (Y/N)'s shoulder exposed thanks to the slouchy nature of the shirt he gave her, he felt himself begin to float off in his thoughts.

He wondered what she would taste like if he stole a kiss on the cuff of her exposed shoulder.

"I don't know," she mused, the sound of her voice pulling him out of his head, "I think you sold it really well. Even without that pot thing, you've got that thing about you."

"I do?" he pressed, feeling all too satisfied at the peek into her thoughts about him.

"Yeah, it's like... I don't know what to call it," she started, her voice falling to a lower volume as her brows pinched together, "Is it an aura? Or is it a—"

Her explanation was cut off as soon as she turned her head to face him, her mouth dropping into a gap when she realized just how close he'd come to her. The tangle of her lashes could be seen up close now that he wasn't hindered by the colored lights from downstairs or the obstacle of distance. If he could, Harry would have sat here all night counting her lashes and recounting them three times over just to be sure. Anything to keep him close.

But, right now, his main focus was the pout of her gaped lips.

"What were y'saying, love?" he prodded, absently bringing his free hand up to cradle the soft of her cheek. He could have sworn he felt the skin heat under his palm.

"Um," she hummed, her gaze flicking between his own before skating down the bridge of his nose and the hills of his Cupid's bow, "I don't know, actually."

"My aura?" he offered though he didn't even really listen to what he was saying.

Recognition flickered in her irises for just a moment before it was melted away in favor of letting something much warmer and honey-dipped to take it's place. Again, there was that circuit she ran from his eyes, to his nose, and down to the pout of his lips. Oh, a quick detour to the small mole that was stationed just off to the side of his mouth.

"Yeah, that," she muttered, shifting in her spot to give him the full of her attention with the book forgotten for the time being, "I like your's. It makes me feel... warm. It's nice."

"Yeah?" he smiled, tilting his head to the side just so, "'M nice? I like your aura too, honey. 'S very sweet; giving me butterflies if 'm being honest."

"I am?" she asked, her features lighting up as she stilled with her gaze matching his.

"Mhm," Harry hummed, a grin stretching across his features, "You've got me bad, darling, I can't lie. Been wanting to get to know y'since I picked up Gem that first time. You're so pretty, I couldn't get y'off my mind."

When the tip of his nose nudged against hers, Harry felt a bit smug when he heard the hitch in her breath. His hold on her cheek solidified into a grounding touch, ensuring he was right here with her and he had her just where he wanted. In the same moment he opened his mouth to ask the same question he'd had on his mind since he saw her outside of the yoga studio, he was cut off by the sound of his wannabe witch's voice.

"Can I kiss you?"

It was a no-brainer, the way he reacted. Not only was she the sweetest thing in the world asking him for a kiss, but she'd read his mind completely. Maybe she did have some power in her, if she'd read him so clearly.

Tipping his head, Harry pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. The lingering essence of alcohol was the first taste he picked up from her skin before he was washed away with the flavor of the remnants of her lip gloss she'd started the night with. Notes of hot cocoa with whipped cream had him smiling into the kiss, the slight grit of glitter touching at his own lips.

"Hot chocolate?" he murmured against her lips, unterrupting himself with another taste of her soft lips.

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, the noise almost a throwaway as she brought her hands to cradle his face, the vial of lavender's blood rolling somewhere across his bed. At least he had a cork in it.

"Your lip gloss. 'S hot chocolate, isn't it?"

(Y/N)'s mouth erupted into a smile that matched his own, only falling when she had to pucker to give him something real to taste. "Oh yeah," she sighed with amusement tinting the words, "I forgot about that, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, love," he said, going in for another smattering of kisses, the soft sounds of the contact filling his room. "I like it."

She all but melted at his admission, Harry being the only thing that kept her steady as she fell into him. Mindful of the fact the both of them had been drinking tonight, (Y/N) seemingly a tiny bit more effected still, he maneuvered himself to lay back onto his bed with a bounce of the mattress. He pulled (Y/N) to lay atop him, her torso pressed against his while their legs tangled together side-by-side over his duvet.

Slotting his lips between her own, Harry got to taste her mouth and a swipe of her tongue. As much as he wanted to explore more, taste more, learn more, he left her to tease him with those disappearing licks from the tip of her tongue and wet kisses delivered to his lips. It was more than enough to feel her heartbeat hammering against his chest from how tightly they were pressed together.

"Harry?" she asked after who knows how long of their only communication coming in the form of lingering kisses.

"Hm?"

"How much longer do you think for my clothes?"

Harry hummed with a growing smile. He feigned deep thought as he pulled away just enough to graze the corner of her mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the apple of her cheek. "We have time."

—————

"Did you sleep with her?"

Harry rolled his eyes as soon as he heard his sister's voice in the kitchen. He had been hoping he woke up early enough to avoid her.

"No, Gemma."

"So why is her costume in the laundry room and she's in your bed?"

He was too hungover for this.

"She spilled something on her dress, and then we jus' talked in my room until she fell asleep. I swear on mum's spellbook that we didn't have sex." He looked her in the eye as he made his promise, raising a brow to see if she would bother to argue with him.

For the first time since moving away from the coven, Harry saw his sister give in. With a flutter of her eyes that he swore were identical to their mother's, she took her metaphorical step back.

"Sorry," she offered, shaking her head as she picked up another discarded ghoul cup, "I think I'm in a bad mood this morning."

"'S alright," Harry told her, meaning the sentiment, "I get it, you know. After really meeting her, I get why you've been a little protective."

Gemma brightened up at the roundabout way he had admitted she was right. "Yeah? Doesn't she kind of remind you of C—"

"Colleen," he finished for her, referencing one of the sweetest women of their coven. The resident healer and brightest of their little family. Despite being closer to one hundred than Harry could imagine living, she never lost that starry sparkle or softened heart.

"A younger, not as nosy version, but she's definitely a little like Colleen."

Harry agreed with a hum as he jerked his chin to commanded the butter he'd pulled from the fridge to spread across his toast, extra slices for (Y/N) included. "I promise 'm not trying to mess anything up, Gems, really. We talked a lot last night, and she ended up falling asleep, that's all. But, if she'll let me, I do want to take her out." Harry paused, shuffling his feet with his gaze falling to the kitchen island. "Is that alright?"

"You don't have to ask me for permission to date anyone," Gemma stated, shaking her head with a twist to her lips, "I'm sorry I've been hard on you about all of that stuff. I think I'm just missing mum a lot, so I'm trying to be like her as if that'll be the same, so I'm sorry about that. Whatever you do, as long as you're happy, I'm fine with it."

It was unspoken the way Harry offered her a hug with his opened arms, Gemma wrapping her own around his middle when she was close enough. As much as they loved to argue, Harry would do anything for his sister; there was no one else he'd rather try out this suburb experiment with.

A silence that felt alot like the kind that used to fill their home with the coven settled over the party-torn kitchen. Running a hand over her spine, Harry tightened his hug just before loosening and pulling away enough to catch her reaction to his next works.

"I think (Y/N) knows, though. About the witch thing."

"What?!"

—————

Harry squeezed (Y/N)'s hand in his own as he followed the directions she'd given him to take her home. In his passenger seat, she was still clad in her borrowed clothes, slouching shoulder prevailing with her skin shining the morning light.

"I had the weirdest dream last night," (Y/N) started, sounding much too chipper for a night of drinking and the fact the time was still before noon.

"Yeah? What was it?" Harry pressed, hoping he sounded as interested as he actually was despite the lack of energy under his skin.

"Well, you were—I don't even know how to describe it," she muttered, stumbling over her ideas though Harry was very much stuck on the idea of him starring in one of her dreams. Even if it was weird. "I guess you were a kind of witch or something," (Y/N) picked up, her choice of words getting Harry's eyes widening before schooling his features.

"Really? What was I doing?"

"You had one of those spell books you had on your shelf, but it was real," (Y/N) bubbled off, sounding sweetly enthused at her imagination, "You were showing me all these potions, and there was this black cat following you, and then things got kind of weird but you were still a witch."

"What got weird?" Harry pressed, his brows pinching as he took another instructed turn from his GPS.

"Well," she pitched, messy hair falling around her face, "Your black cat turned into some kind of squid or something and started inking all over the place and I kept trying to get the stains out and no one would help me. I had to wake myself up before I got too upset."

The laughter that puffed from Harry's chest was incredulous as he listened to her recount the tale with conviction behind it. "'M sorry I didn't help you, love," he offered, bringing their joined hands to his lips with a kiss pressed to the back of hers, "I promise I'll help y'if m'cat ever turns into a squid, alright?"

While his smile lingered on his face, Harry could tell the tone shifted when he pulled up in front of (Y/N)'s apartment building. Silence settled over the car.

"Har—"

"So, I—"

(Y/N) cut herself off with a jump while Harry immediately snapped his mouth closed to let her go first. It only took a nod of encouragement on his end and a squeeze of her hand to have (Y/N) taking the opportunity to speak.

"I was just going to say that, I know we kissed and everything already, last night," she started, a beep breath filling her lungs in the middle when her gaze dropped to her hand in his, "But, I was wondering if you might want to go out, still? I get it if this was just a little party-thing, but—um—"

"Are you asking me on a date?" Harry couldn't help the smug curl of his lips, a dimple thumbing into his cheek.

With a shake of her head, gaze still down, (Y/N) rolled her eyes though the motion lacked grit with a tender smile on her lips. "I guess so. You don't have to sound so sure of yourself, though."

"Me? Smug and cocky? I don't see it," he teased, leaning across the center console until he only had to speak in a gentle tone for her to hear, "If 'm not too sure of myself for you, I would love to take y'out, honey. It would be a bit of a bummer if we have to tell people our first date was jus' us making out in m'bedroom after walking in on someone getting head in the bathroom."

The bubbling laugh he pulled from her was one he wished he could commemorate somehow, make it into something he could wear with pride wherever he went. That was something he would be smug about, no questions asked.

"I don't know, I don't think that sounds that bad," she played along, chancing a look through the fan of her lashes, "But—um—I don't have to work on Friday, so maybe we could go to dinner or something?"

"Got anywhere special in mind?" he asked, a lilt to his tone.

Her messy hair fluttered with a nod of her head. "Kind of. There's this place downtown that's pretty good, but it's two doors down from this shop that has all of these 'witchy' things, so we could go there, too, if you haven't been yet."

"I don't think I have," Harry smiled, the curl lopsided, "Y'gonna take me and show me how it all works?"

The way she lit up at his gentle words had dangerous implications. If she wasn't careful, Harry was going to keep her forever.

"Maybe, they even have a cauldron to go in your room next year."

"We can only hope."

He couldn't help but to kiss her then. The scent of hot cocoa and sparkle of glitter stained his mouth all the way home.

—————

I know this is late for a halloween fic but I really hope you guys still like it! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in !

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