This is for the HMS Harmony Valentines Day Fest 2022, which can be found on AO3.
Fic prompt: (Smut/NSFW): Harry loves Hermione's hair. He wants to play with it, twirl it around his fingers. He wants to see it cascade down her bare back. He wants to gather it in his fist and pull her head towards him, make her beg—but no. This is his best friend. He can't be having thoughts like these about his best friend.
If only he knew Hermione often looked at his large, strong hands and had thoughts that were not much different (or more innocent) than his.
Kings Crossing
Her hair is what he noticed about her first.
"Did a Spark Mouse bite you?" Harry had asked the girl standing nearby to him on the train platform.
She was short, shorter than him. With tan skin, startling white teeth, and big dark eyes that took up most of her face. That was all noticed secondary to her hair though. It was huge, curly, and all tangled and fluffy.
"I beg your pardon?" She asked. Her voice had a pleasantly posh accent to it.
"Your hair is all puffed up. Same thing happened to me when my mate Neville's pet Spark Mouse bit me. Gave me a nasty shock, had my hair all frizzed up for a week. You know, those little electric mice you find in the field?"
The little witch blinked at him in confusion before scowling at him fiercely.
"How rude! This is just how my hair is, wait… Are you telling me Pikachu is real?" (1)
Harry winced as the pitch of her voice raised in her excitement as she started to harass him with questions. She was talking about poke-something, and where did you catch them and how. She kept going on and on and he just couldn't get a word in edgewise.
He didn't know what to do, so without thinking, he reached out a hand, and tugged lightly on a strand of her frizzy hair. Her hair was surprisingly soft and springy. It was a bit fun actually, the way the hair wrapped around his finger as if it had a mind of its own.
"Hey, you need to slow down."
She stared at his hand and then back to him in startelment.
"One question at a time. Ok?" Harry gently reprimanded the girl, using another gentle tug on her hair to emphasize his point.
She blinked up at him a few times before smiling brightly.
"Ok, that's fair. My name is Hermione by the way. Hermione Granger."
And she stuck out her hand for him to shake, and that's how Harry Potter met and befriended little Muggle-born Hermione Granger.
Second Year
Potions had ended in disaster. Hermione's hair had escaped from the sticking charm she had placed on it, and a curly lock fell into her and Harry's potion, ruining their concoction and costing them their grade for the day. The little Witch had been near inconsolable.
"Sit."
Harry ordered his best friend, as he pointed down at the ground between his legs where he sat on the couch in the common room. Hermione stared at him in bewilderment, before he rolled his eyes and tugged her down. She let out a squeak as Harry pushed her to a kneeling position between his knees, her back to him.
"Harry, what the-."
Hermione looked angrily over her shoulder at him, and as had become tradition among the two, Harry tugged lightly on a piece of her hair to get her attention, and shut her up.
"Shush, and sit still."
Pushing her head forward, Harry started carding his fingers through her wild bushy curls. Deceptively soft, the riotous locks curled around his fingers like tentacles. He couldn't help but smile. Her hair held onto him, as if it wanted to hold him hostage.
Soon enough, he had the mass separated into three sections. After a bit of trial and error, he had bound her hair into a messy plait. Looking around for something to hold it, seeing as how Hermione's curls defied even the strongest of sticking charms. He finally grabbed his long forgotten tie from where it lay beside him on the couch, and tied off his work. He couldn't help but admire how well the red and gold shimmered against the dark rich chocolate of her hair.
"There, all done."
"Ohhhhh what a fantastic idea!" Lavender chimed from across the fire. Where she and Parvati had been reading each others palms. Parvati nodded eagerly.
"Let's see how long it lasts." Ron snorted from the other end of the couch.
Hermione looked at her dorm mates in confusion until Lavender fished out what looked to be a compact mirror from her book bag. Enlarging it, Hermione moved it too and fro, looking at herself in wonder before turning and smiling that big bright smile of hers on Harry.
"Oh Harry, this is perfect, thank you!"
If Harry's heart skipped a beat, well it was just because he felt good for doing something nice for his best friend he figured. Her tears had been replaced with a smile, that's what mattered.
Summer Before Forth Year
Summer after third year would find them at Sirius home, as Harry's parents were away for a month on a second Honeymoon. Harry didn't understand why they needed a second honeymoon as it seemed everyday was a honeymoon for his parents. Harry knew Hermione had always found how his parents acted romantic. Harry found it downright embarrassing though.
Having managed an almost impossible feat of teasing Hermione away from the Black Library. That afternoon found them out in the backyard of the Black Manor, spread out on a blanket in the sun, enjoying lemonade and sandwiches while they threw grapes at each other's open mouths.
Laughing at Hermione's horrible aim, that more often than not ended with the grapes flying wide of Harry even though they only sat a few feet away from each other. Sirius watched the two with a smile on his face from the porch with an amber drink in his hand. This is how Regulus found them.
"Ashes and elm, but this is getting ridiculous." Regulus muttered as he came stomping out into the lawn.
"Come with me girl."
Before Harry even realized what was happening, Regulus had bustled Hermione up to her feet and had dragged her inside.
"What?"
Harry stumbled to his knees ready to go save Hermione from his Godfather's dour brother.
"Let them be. I'm honestly surprised Reg held out this long on the girl."
"Held out? What do you mean?"
Sirius only smirked. "You'll see."
It seemed whatever Regulus had planned had kept them busy the rest of the day, the two not emerging from Hermione's guest room until late at night when Regulus nudged a blushing Hermione into the study where Sirius and Harry had been playing chess.
Harry sat silently as Sirius whistled and clapped his hands.
"Now look at that. Your hair is almost as pretty as mine, love." His godfather quipped.
Hermione snorted before turning to Harry and smiled softly.
"What do you think?"
Harry stood up and walked around his best friend, looking over her new sleek curls. Her dark mahogany hair had been tamed to lucius dark heavy waves that turned into ringlets as they reached the bottom. Stopping in front of the Witch, Harry reached out a hand to tug on a strand of the shiny defined curls. The end wrapping around his finger as he always liked.
"Pretty." He smiled back, hiding his disappointment.
He knew he had said the right thing when she beamed back that bright smile of hers at him though. So he buried his disappointment deep down, the sadness of knowing she wouldn't need him to braid her hair for her anymore.
The rest of the summer went by rather quickly. Regulus had surprised everyone by allowing Hermione to use his own wand to charm her curls every morning, so she could get proficient at it while not setting the trace on her own wand off.
And if it seemed as if Harry played with her dark curls all the more when they were sitting down and talking near the fire at night. Well no one seemed to notice, and the shared looks between Sirius and Regulus were probably just in Harry's imagination anyway.
Fourth Year
"Harry, can you please braid my hair back for me before Potions?"
Hermione tugged on Harry's sleeve beseechingly as she looked up at him with her big brown doe eyes.
"But it's all smooth and sleek and what-not now." Harry replied.
"I can do it!" Ron sat up straight in his seat across from them in the Great Hall.
Both Harry and Hermione looked at him in confusion.
"What?" The redhead muttered self consciously. "I used to plait Ginny's hair all the time."
Something pinched inside Harry's chest, and his stomach turned a bit. Ever since they had come back for their fourth year, it seemed as if the Wizards in the school had all started taking note of Hermione. None more so than Ron, and something about that made Harry feel some sort of way.
"I got it." Harry snapped, perhaps a bit too firmly.
"Here, turn your back to me. I thought with the charms your hair was much more manageable now?"
Hermione nodded distractedly before Harry tugged on a strand of curls, warning her to stay still.
"It is, but there is still just so much of it. I need it tied back, and I'm just awful at plaiting my hair myself. I always do it too tight and get a headache, or it ends up all lopsided."
Harry 'hmmed' in agreement as he carded his handles through the smooth curls. Taking his time, enjoying the way her hair caught the morning light shining down from the ceiling of the Great Hall. He couldn't help the spark of satisfaction deep in his chest, that this small ritual of theirs would not disappear.
Taking his time, breakfast was over when he finally finished. Tying off the end with his tie, it was worth the loss of house points he would get later for his uniform not being up to snuff. And if he noticed Ron giving him a measuring look, well, that was nothing. Hermione was his friend after all, he was just helping her.
Fifth Year
It was his first kiss. He had been caught under the mistletoe and Cho Chang had stumbled upon him. It was a good kiss Harry thought. Cho was a bit more enthusiastic than Harry had anticipated, but it got his blood boiling in a way that was new.
They would end up in deserted corners of the Castle for the rest of the year, to snog and run their hands over the other. She seemed to like it when he ran his hands through her hair. But all Harry could think of was how short her chin length hair was, it slipped right through his fingers. Straight locks that did not grab on to him…
Their secret little tryst ended with the school year.
Sixth Year
Hermione was on her tummy, reading a book on the common room couch. Harry on his back on the floor below her, playing with the curls that spilled over the side of the couch cushions. The fire light bringing out hues of umber and bronze in her deep dark waves.
His friend's hair was softer than any silk Harry had ever touched, and with every caress he could feel a bit of Hermione's magic spark at his fingertips. It made something low in his belly tighten in an uncomfortable way.
"It's weird."
"What's weird?" Hermione's distracted voice asked. Her hair slipped through Harry's fingers as she shifted, looking up at Ron who was sitting in the chair across from them.
"The way Harry always plays with your hair. It's weird, and blokes will get the wrong idea."
"What?" Both Harry and Hermione answered this time, sitting up in unison, staring at their red haired friend.
"It's just a bit off is all, and people are getting the wrong idea. Plus you guys are basically siblings, which makes it even weirder."
"He's right." Ginny chimed in from where she had been playing exploding snap with Padma not too far from them. Her eyes lingering in Hermione's long hair for a moment.
"Bollocks." Padma snorted, cutting her eyes to Ron and Ginny in turn before turning to Harry.
"I think it's sweet, don't listen to them."
Harry looked at Hermione who wasn't meeting anyone's eyes. Biting her lip as her mind whirled through all the information she had just taken in. He couldn't help but notice she had shifted her hair to fall over the other side of her shoulder, out of Harry's reach.
And so it stopped. Harry didn't know if it was him or her. But he stopped reaching for her curls, and she stopped wearing them loose. Letting Lavender teach her various charms for keeping her hair out of her face. Usually she wore it up now, in either a crown of pretty braids, or a charming wild bun.
If his fingers twitched now and then, as if reaching for something that wasn't there. Well, Harry ignored it. Ron was right, it was weird. Except, it had never felt weird…
Seventh Year
Harry stumbled upon the two by accident. He had come to the library in search of Hermione; she often forgot about lunch when she was deep into research on a subject she found interesting. This month it was Ancient Albanian, a language almost forgotten. She was halfway to having the alphabet memorized. Harry had no idea where she picked this stuff up, as far as he knew it hadn't been mentioned in any of their shared classes.
He rounded the corner to his friend's favorite little hidden study spot only to stop dead in his tracks. It felt like a punch to the gut seeing them like that. Hermione's back to him, sitting on top of the desk. Her legs spread with Ron standing in between, her head tipped back with her curls undone and falling down her back. The red haired wizard hands buried in the dark tresses as he kissed her.
Harry turned around immediately and stalked out of the library. It mattered not though, the scene kept playing through his head on repeat. It was hard, processing it all. Trying to understand the hurt he felt, and also the anger.
Did he have a right to be angry? They hid this from him so far, yes. But it's not like Harry talked to either of them about the Witches he had found himself snogging in castle broom cupboards or hidden alcoves.
And then an ugly thought overcame him. Had Hermione been in those same broom cupboards with other wizards? Had she let Oliver Wood or Michael Corner sneak a hand up her shirt or pull her into a dusty unused room to snog away a free period?
There was nothing wrong with that of course, except, it made Harry's stomach turn. This is what jealousy feels like the dark haired Wizard quickly realized. It was a bitter thing to come to terms with.
The days passed, and soon enough his two friends' relationship came to light. He did his best to hide his anger, his jealousy. It wasn't their fault after all. Harry could have pursued her, he could have asked her out. Why hadn't he?
That question played on repeat in his mind. 'Why?'
And soon enough, Harry started to focus on Ron. One of his closest friends. The one who always pointed out that Harry and Hermione seemed like siblings. Harry's mind would replay events, like how the ginger haired Wizard started sitting between them during class a year ago. How he has always jeered and nit picked at Harry's closeness to Hermione.
So Harry lost himself in Quidditch, and in Witches, trying to distract himself. Unsure if he was making real connections, or only seeing what he wanted. Trying to find blame where there was none.
There was also guilt. Hermione was his friend . She trusted him and here he was acting like a spoiled little brat who had his toy taken away by another. That was wrong, and she deserved better. So Harry aimed to be better. But that did not stop the dreams. The dreams that came at night, of long dark curls splashed across his bed sheets. The way they felt against his bare skin. A tan body beneath him, writhing as he tugged on long soft ropes of dark hair…
And Then It Got Worse
Harry wasn't a morning person, which was why it took fifteen minutes after Hermione had sat down next to him at the great hall for him to notice anything was off.
"What?" Hermione mumbled self consciously, not meeting Harry's eyes as she picked at a measly piece of toast on her plate.
"Your hair…" Harry gaped.
Hermione's hair was straight. The long sleek strands hung like a sheet down her back. It wasn't exactly bad, but it was wrong. Wrong for Hermione. Hermione had wild hair that defied sticking charms and physics. Curls that used to wrap around Harry's fingers, and tangle around them.
"Ron likes it straight." She replied, her cheeks pinking as she still refused to meet Harry's eyes.
Without thinking he reached out, letting his fingers sink into the thick hair. Lifting up his hand and watching as it slipped through his hand without a fight. The familiar spark of magic, missing. It was wrong, all wrong.
Harry looked up to find Hermione finally looking his way. For the first time in the friendship, her eyes were guarded as she looked at his hands. He could not tell what was going on in that head of hers, and it hurt.
"What the hell are you doing?"
The duo looked up from their little trance to find a red face Ron standing over them, his eyes glued to Harry's hand in his girlfriend's hair.
"For Circe's sake Ron, just about everyone in the Great Hall has done a double take this morning. I didn't even recognize Hermione myself when I first walked in."
Neville pushed the red head out of the way in an unusual show of annoyance for the Gryffindor. He took the seat next to Hermione, Ron's seat in fact, and started filling his plate. Not before smiling kindly at Hermione and letting her know her hair looked nice.
Ron grumbled as he made his way all the way around the table to finally take a seat across from his Witch.
"It's just weird to see another bloke's hands on my girlfriend's hair." He muttered accusingly.
Harry and Hermione both went stiff in their seats, but once again, Neville responded in kind.
"Another bloke? It's just Harry, they have been friends since first year. You're the one that's always saying Harry and Hermione are like brother and sister."
Harry had no idea what had gotten into Neville lately, but he had to say he wasn't minding it quite that much today. The rest of the morning meal was spent with the Gryffindor's talking about Hermione's hair, while the Witch hid behind it, trying to ignore and hide from all the new attention she was getting. Harry lost his appetite and quickly excused himself from the table.
It would be two weeks of awkwardly avoiding his two friends. This time not out of jealousy, but the pure anger that would erupt in his chest at the sight of the straight dark curtain of hair that falls down Hermione's back. Grinding his teeth when he would catch Ron playing with the long strands where they would sit cuddled in the common room.
Harry knew everyone noticed his actions. Luckily, for once, the usually graceless and tactless house of Gryffindor had the sense to keep their mouths shut about the situation. Something he was eternally grateful for.
It all comes to a head when Harry quite literally almost bumps into Hermione in an empty corridor. The two rounding a corner at the same moment, they go to ridiculous lengths to not touch as they dance around the other. It's almost comical except for how sad it is.
Once they both have their balance they just stare at the other.
"Why aren't you in Charms?" Hermione asks him, her voice small and quiet.
Harry bites the inside of his cheek. 'Why isn't he in charms with them?' is what she means to ask. One of a handful of classes the trio still share in their last year at school together. The class he is currently playing hooky from at the moment.
He doesn't know what makes him do it. But with a steady hand, he reaches out and grabs onto a length of her hair, and pulls on it. Not hard, exactly. But not in the light teasing way of their early youth. He pulls her face towards his own, and in her surprise she lets out a strange gasp.
It wasn't a moan, or a cry. There was no pain, but there was something in that sound, something that made Harry's breath go ragged. He tugged once more, to bring her closer still, till her big dark eyes filled his vision.
"I don't like this."
Harry punctuates his reply with a small tug and quick look at her hair.
"Change it back." He all but growls out.
And then he feels it, a spark of her Magic at the end of his fingertips as he finally lets her hair slip from his grasp. Her magic is like electric fire, and he has missed it dearly. They stand there for what feels an eternity, merely just staring and standing much too close to each other. Their magic reaches out tentatively, like old friends becoming reacquainted.
She doesn't look angry, but contemplative as she bites her lower lip and looks Harry over.
"Come to class, yeah?" She asks.
Her eyes finally go soft as she reaches out and tugs on the sleeve of his robe, and Harry can only let out a sigh, as the tension drains from his body. With a crooked smile he nods and follows her back to Charms. He makes excuses to Professor McGonigal for being late, but she merely waves them away as he takes his seat, next to Hermione.
Before it gets better
Harry stops avoiding the couple, and starts going back to all their shared classes regularly. Hermione invites him to study in the library, just the two of them, so they can catch him up on missed work, much to Ron's chagrin.
By Saturday next, Hermione comes down to breakfast with her trademark curls and it knocks the breath right outta him. They say nothing to each other, their eyes meeting only for the briefest of moments before she takes her seat. Her curls brush against Harry's arm, sending currents of static heat rushing across his skin.
The weekend isn't even over before her and Ron are arguing in the common room. Harry is in the far corner playing chess with Neville. Purposely looking at the board and not the couple as they exchange hard words.
"But why all of a sudden? I thought you liked it? Did someone say something to you?"
Ron always had a temper that matched his fiery red hair. Harry can feel his friend's blue eyes on him from across the room as he asks the last question. Ron wasn't the brightest wand in the shop, but it seemed he put the return of Hermione's curls, and the return of Harry back into their triangle of friendship, together quickly.
"I like my curls. Even before the charms and the potions, I always liked my curls! It hasn't even been two months and I have found myself compromising myself for you over and over again. My hair, my studies, my friends!"
Harry finally looks up as Ron begins to stutter, his cheeks turning a splotchy ugly red as his eyes harden. Hearing nothing but 'friends' and looking angrily across the room at Harry. As always, Weasley focused on the wrong thing.
Harry lifts up his wand and casts a privacy charm over the two. An opaque bubble surrounds them and deadens the sound of their yelling. Ron always went for the throat when he felt backed into a corner, and Harry would spare Hermione the embarrassment of whatever venom her boyfriend would spit out for their classmates to hear.
Not even five minutes later, the privacy bubble is broken. Hermione flees the common room, leaving a wide eyed Ron standing alone, a red handprint across his cheek.
The Ending Of A Friendship
"She's my ex-girlfriend. Just exactly what do you think you're doing sniffing around her? You think I don't see you?"
Ron pushes Harry, catching him unawares as he was packing his trunk for graduation.
"Ron!" Neville shout's, getting between the two. Dean closes the door and throws a silencing charm across it for good measure, lest the rest of the dorm hear. Harry nods a thanks to the dark skin boy while making his way back to his feet. He faces his one time friend, as Ron continues to yell.
"Neville, he's flirting with her! His best friend's ex-girlfriend. Blokes don't do that to one another!"
Harry can't help but think perhaps there is something wrong with him, with how calm he feels at this moment. He's fairly certain this is it for the friendship, that this night will end everything between the two long time mates.
"Ron. She was my friend long before she was your girlfriend, and she will be my friend long after you are gone."
The whoosh of breath that leaves Ron's lungs is audible.
Training
Harry is in Moscow, sipping at a tumbler of straight vodka as he reads her letter for the fifth time. Russia is lonely as he is in the middle of his first rotation of Curse Breaker training. Hermione is all the way in Norway, learning old Norse and translating ancient texts for her Mastery.
Her letters come often enough to help and to hurt. The green eyed wizard can't help but look to his nightstand where sits a photo of them from graduation. Hermione with her arms around both him and Neville. Smiling happily with her hair blowing in the wind.
He still dreams of chocolate curls fisted in his hands, and tan skin writhing beneath him.
Two Years Later
In Istanbul, they are finally in the same city at the same time after two years. Harry is about to finish his training and take up a full time position with Gringotts. They have plans to meet tomorrow at a Wizarding café in the city's secret magical underworld which still goes by the name Constantinople.
But there was an explosion in their Curse Breaking labs in Rome, and all wands are needed. Harry must leave before the sun sets. Without thought he apparates three times across the city, breaking a handful of laws along the way. He finds his way to Hermione's flat, hoping beyond hope she is home.
"Harry?"
It's the first time he has seen her since graduation.
"Hey Princess." he smiles down at the Witch, relieved.
And then she is in his arms, all warmth and soft lines, and that wild spark of her magic racing across every where her skin touches his. His hands delve into the wild curls of her hair and he tugs at them. Hard.
Her body shudders against his as she lets out a strangled cry. He pulls her head back by her hair, looking down at his best friend in all the world.
"There has been an accident, I must leave for Rome now, before nightfall. But I wanted to let you know, you must wait for me. Do you understand?"
It comes out as an order, but really it's a plea. He's a step away from getting down on his knees to beg. But she bites her lower lip while smiling, and merely nods her head. She's too good for him, he knows that. But Harry will be damned if he lets anyone else have her.
And so he kisses her, sweetly, because it's their first kiss, before he hesitantly lets her go.
"Be safe." She whispers as he kisses her finger tips.
And then he is gone.
Summer In Paris
There is a knock at the front door of his flat. It's early but late for Harry who has just got home from a long shift at the bank, having just finished a long overdue project. One he was sure may finally take a piece out of him. Luckily that hadn't been the case. He opens the door to his flat only to have his breath stutter in his chest.
"Hermione?"
She is smiling up at him, looking like the cat that got the canary. Obviously pleased to have surprised her best friend. She is in a flimsy white sundress with her hair in a braid over her shoulder. Tied off with a familiar red and gold tie…
This time it's Hermione who makes the first move. Her arms are around him, her lips crash against his own, as she pushes him inside. One of her feet kicks out to shut the door behind them. The kiss is electric. Her magic wraps around him as Harry whispers 'Fuck' over and over again between kisses, as all his senses seem to get overwhelmed all at once. She's here! She is finally here. In his arms. His !
With a groan he pulls the squirming Witch off of him. She lets out a mewl of protest as he flips her around. Her back to his front, he pushes her so she has to brace herself in front of the long mirror he has by his front door. Their eyes meet in the reflection and he starts biting and sucking at her neck, one hand pulling down the front of her dress. Harry moans as her tits bounce free and he realizes she is not wearing a bra. He bites at her ear, as his hands fondle her tan chest, drawing out a desperate moan from his Witch.
"So fucking beautiful."
She shivers against his body as he whispers in her ear. Her bottom grinding against his crotch in the most delicious way, driving him mad. His sexy little Witch smiles wickedly at him in the mirror as she reaches one of her hands over and pulls the tie off the end of her braid.
"My perfect wild Witch." Harry mumbles as he tugs at her hair, releasing the curls from the confine of the braid.
They are softer than he remembers, and smell of coconut and peaches. He buries his face in the wild mane as he lifts the skirt of her dress up over her hips. His hands soon finding out that she also forgone knickers. They both let out a moan as his fingers find her wet center.
When he finally sinks his cock into her, it's with a hand around her throat and another fisted into her curls. Holding her head up so their eyes meet in the mirror as he fucks her for the first time.
Harrys is a powerful Wizard, but he can't help but feel as if he is being burned alive as Hermione's own magic races across his skin. It's almost too much. The feel of her magical aura paired with the wet tight heat of her cunt surrounding him.
He feels so small, yet so big all at once. The desperate moans coming from her mouth, plea's begging for 'more,' and 'please, don't stop.' The way her body starts shuddering around him as she gets closer and closer to that edge. It all together combines to make Harry feel like a God. To think he could bring such pleasure to her. It was spell binding.
Her wet curls were slick with her sweat when she finally came undone. Harry follows close behind her, emptying himself for the first time into her. Holding her tight.
Later that night would find her sitting atop him in bed. Looking down at herself and smiling bemusedly as she inspects the bruises on her hips, thighs, and wrists. Harry wonders if she will still be smiling later when she sees the love bites that cover her neck and shoulders as well.
She takes one of his hands, like it's a game, and tries to fit it against the purpling marks, while giggling. Harry had never been a rough lover, yet the more he pulled on her hair, the harder he had grabbed at her hips, the more she moaned and writhed during their love making. It had turned him into a beast.
With a wicked grin that spells trouble, she finally brings his hand up to her throat as she slides down the length of his cock. Harry hisses as her tight heat enveloped him, and his fingers flex against the soft delicate lines of her neck.
"You are perfect." Harry whispers.
He really means to say, I love you. But she already knows that. She has always known that.
1. I know in canon Pokémon came out a few years after Harry's first year, but I just thought Muggle-Borns would find the idea of Magical creatures being real cool, and fun to compare to Pokémon. I'm sure I am not the first to make the comparison.
Happy Valentines Day everyone! This is my first time joining in on one of the prompt fests. I hope whoever this prompt belongs to isn't too disappointed. The story kinda ran away from me, and may not be exactly what the prompt request was for, but here we are. I had a good time, and I hope you all enjoy. I do plan on coming back to it one day and fleshing out the ending a bit. It definitely came out a bit rushed. I desperately wanted to get this fic turned in on time though.
As stated at the beginning, this is for;
HMS Harmony Valentine's Day Fest 2022 - that can be found on AO3.They also have a Facebook page and a Discord, and are just all around a lovely group people.
