The Kiss. Finally!
Harry had survived a war (eh, he was one, it counts). He had faced death, dark magic, and horrors beyond imagination.
So why, exactly, was Seamus Finnigan about to kill him over a bloody bet?
It had started innocently enough.
Seamus had plopped down next to Harry on the couch and smirked. Which was already a problem.
Then, with zero warning, he said, “Bet you a galleon I can make you blush in under five seconds.”
Harry snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”
Seamus leaned in. “That’s not a no.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “You are not winning this bet.”
Seamus grinned like the absolute menace he was.
And then—
He dragged his fingers lightly down Harry’s arm and murmured, way too soft, way too low—
“Don’t be shy, love.”
Harry blushed instantly.
Seamus grinned in victory.
“Pay up, Potter.”
Harry wanted to die.
Seamus had been doing this all day.
Brushing their hands together when they reached for the same book.
Stealing Harry’s food off his plate, grinning like he owned the world.
Calling him ‘love’ in front of everyone. Every. Single. Time.
By the time midnight rolled around, the tension between them was so thick Harry could barely breathe.
And Seamus?
Seamus was looking at him like he was one second away from doing something very, very stupid.
Harry was about to say something, anything, to break the moment—
But then—
Seamus finally, finally snapped.
And kissed him.
Right there. In the middle of the Gryffindor common room.
For a full five seconds, Harry’s brain ceased to function.
Then—
Dean yelled, “FINALLY.”
Neville pumped his fist in victory.
Hermione exhaled, muttering, “About time.”
A second-year Gryffindor shouted, “Who won the bet?!”
Seamus pulled back just enough to smirk.
Harry, stunned, breathless, absolutely wrecked, whispered, “That was cheating.”
Seamus grinned. “Yeah? You gonna do somethin’ about it, love?”
Harry grabbed him by the collar and kissed him senseless.
The common room erupted.
Dean started passing out winnings. Neville collected his galleons with pride.
Hermione hid her smile behind her book.
And Harry?
Harry finally, finally let himself have this.
Harry had one goal.
Avoid Seamus Finnigan at all costs.
Unfortunately, Seamus Finnigan was the single most un-avoidable person in existence.
Harry’s plan failed immediately.
He had barely made it to breakfast when Seamus flopped into the seat beside him, grinning like the world’s most attractive disaster.
“Morning, love,” Seamus said smoothly.
Harry turned red.
Hermione stabbed her eggs with unnecessary force. “Just talk to him, Harry.”
Harry shoved toast into his mouth to avoid responding.
Seamus smirked. “Aw, is my boy shy?”
Harry choked on his toast.
Dean and Neville high-fived.
Hermione sighed deeply.
Later that afternoon, Hermione dragged Harry into an empty classroom.
She crossed her arms. “Talk.”
Harry groaned. “Hermione—”
“No,” she said sharply. “You kissed Seamus Finnigan in front of the entire common room and now you’re acting like it didn’t happen.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to—”
“How to what?” Hermione challenged. “Accept that you’re allowed to be happy?”
Harry froze.
Hermione’s expression softened. “You like him. He adores you. Stop fighting it.”
Harry swallowed. Hard.
Hermione smiled knowingly. “Go talk to him.”
That night, Harry found Seamus sitting by the fire.
He took a deep breath.
Then—he sat beside him.
Seamus turned, raising an eyebrow. “Decided to stop avoidin’ me?”
Harry sighed. “I wasn’t—”
Seamus tilted his head.
“…Okay, maybe I was.”
Seamus grinned. “Knew it.”
Harry exhaled, staring into the fire. “So… that kiss…”
Seamus leaned in. “Yeah?”
Harry’s heart pounded. “Was that just… messing around, or—”
Seamus’s grin faded.
For the first time, he looked completely serious.
“No, Harry,” he said, voice soft but steady. “That was real.”
Harry’s breath hitched.
Seamus reached for his hand. “I’ve been waitin’ for you to catch up, love.”
Harry felt something tighten in his chest.
Then—slowly, finally, he laced their fingers together.
And for the first time, he let himself believe it.