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HP430- Roses and Weeds
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“You’re doing that thing again,” Harry said. “Where you stare like you’ve got something to say, but don’t.”
Susan gave a small snort. “Maybe I do.”
“Well,” Harry said, “better say it before someone else walks in. Daphne’s got the reflexes of a cat and worse timing.”
She shifted slightly, her hand still under his, “I’ve liked you for a while.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”
Susan blew out a soft breath through her nose. “Since first year, probably. Maybe second. Don’t remember exactly.”
Harry didn’t let go. “And this is the moment you’ve picked?”
“Well, I’m not one for big gestures,” she said. “Besides, I figured if I waited any longer, someone else would claim you.”
Harry tilted his head. “Bold of you to assume I’m the one being claimed.”
Susan shrugged, that flush returning just slightly. “You always let people think they’re in control. That’s half your charm.”
“I’m charming now?”
“Shut up,” she muttered, but her smile said otherwise.
Harry sighed and shook his head slightly, fingers still lightly tangled with hers. “You know this isn’t a race. I care about all of you. I don’t want to lose either of you. I know it sounds selfish, but...”
Susan gave his hand a gentle squeeze, cutting in before he could spiral. “We know. Honestly, we all do. Astoria’s meddling turned out to be the best thing to happen. Without it, none of us would’ve known how to deal with you.” She smiled, small but genuine. “You care about us. Well, we care about each other too. None of us wants to hurt the others.”
Susan went on, a bit steadier now. “So. Two paths ahead. We either get in each other’s way and ruin what we’ve got… or we don’t.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “That the whole plan, then?”
“No,” she said, amused. “It’s the beginning of one. Look, we’re not idiots. We know what this is. People notice. Daphne notices. You think Astoria and Tracey don’t?” She tilted her head. “It’s not some secret.”
“Didn’t say it was,” Harry said, rubbing his thumb against the side of her hand. “Just didn’t think it needed a council meeting either.”
Susan huffed a laugh. “It doesn’t. But ignoring it won’t help either. We’re already... in this mess. Might as well not make it worse.”
Harry considered that. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying… if it happens, it happens. But we don’t pretend it’s a war.” She let go of his hand finally, brushing a bit of lint off her skirt. “No knives. No games. No turf lines.”
Harry knew what that meant, of course. Astoria was the youngest, the cheekiest, the one most likely to sneak a biscuit before dinner and claim she was “testing for poison.” But she wasn’t a fool. Far from it. She’d been reading people like a seasoned spy since she was five. Probably had to, with her condition and the way adults tiptoed around her. Daphne, her parents... all polite lies and forced smiles. Astoria learned early how to see past that.
So when she dropped the Emperor Potter line, it wasn’t just a joke. It was a move. She’d spotted the tension, clocked how many girls in the group hovered a bit too long near Harry, how a few smiles lasted half a second too much. She didn’t call them out. She just reframed the whole mess with a smirk and called it a harem. Easier to laugh than argue.
And laugh they had.
And that night, after Astoria’s harem joke had them all laughing, something odd happened. Not right then, of course. They were too busy taking jabs at Harry, ranking which of them might actually win him over if there was some sort of secret competition. It started as a bit of a laugh... Tracey declared she’d claim the crown simply because she had the best dress sense, Hermione called her delusional, and Daphne just sipped her drink like she was bored with the lot of them.
But when they went to bed... scattered across different dorms, floors, and common rooms, the joke didn’t really feel like one anymore. Not in a sad, tragic way. More like a pebble that landed in their heads and refused to roll out.
They all thought about it. What would happen if one of them actually did get serious with Harry? What if someone else did? How would the others take it? Could they really pretend it wouldn’t sting?
Then the flip side crept in... what if none of them did? What if someone outside their group swooped in, clueless and giggly, and didn’t understand how Harry worked at all? Worse, what if Harry got tired of the whole circus and left them behind altogether?
None of them said any of that aloud. But they all thought the same thing, in their own way. Not a flower of clarity, more like a weed... persistent, stubborn, growing without anyone asking for it. At some point in the week that followed, it stopped being a competition they pretended not to notice. It turned into an agreement they didn’t speak aloud. Nobody would sabotage the others. Nobody would act like they had exclusive rights to Harry. Not because they were saints. Just because losing Harry, and each other, wasn’t worth it.
Whatever happened, happened. But they weren’t going to knife each other over it.
Not that Harry noticed anything had shifted. Not at first.
He was too busy running the Duelling Club, adjusting lesson plans, fielding owl post from half the wizarding world, and quietly swapping coded letters with Gringotts over supply runs that definitely weren’t meant to be tracked by the Ministry.
Only now, hearing Susan, did Harry realise.. they'd all come to some sort of agreement behind his back. Probably not formal. Probably didn’t even happen all at once. But it had happened. That much was clear.
Susan was still looking at him, her hand in his.
He gave a slight shrug. “Well. Makes things easier, doesn’t it?”
Susan huffed a short laugh. “Depends. You’re still the centre of it.”
He chuckled. “So much for ego restraint. I should just declare my godship now.”
Susan laughed, brushing her fringe back with one hand. But a second voice slipped in, “Careful with those words, Harry.”
Harry’s smile faded slightly, “I thought you were gone,” he replied in his head.
“I was,” Nigel said, tone light but with a sharp edge. “Just be careful with those words.”
Harry gave a small nod in his mind and turned his attention back to Susan, who was still standing a step away, watching him with that half-amused, half-wary expression she wore when she expected him to say something ridiculous.
“You alright?” she asked, eyebrows lifted.
“Always,” he said. “Though apparently, my divine coronation has been postponed.”
Susan rolled her eyes. “Tragic.”
“I’ll manage. Might have to settle for Emperor of Duelling Club instead.”
“You already are,” Susan said, brushing his arm as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Can we go to Hogsmeade this weekend? Just the two of us. Even if it’s only for half an hour?”
Harry smirked, tilting his head. “Bit forward, Bones. Should I bring flowers?”
Susan gave him a look. “Bring your wand. We’ll count that as romantic enough.”
He took a step back and gave a slight bow, “It would be my honour, Miss Bones.”
Susan gave a small curtsy in return, lips twitching. “Well then, Mr Potter. I wish you good night.”
Harry hooked his arm around hers before she could move off. “Allow me to escort you to your chambers, m’lady.”
She gave him a sideways glance, amused. “And if I refuse?”
“You won’t,” he said, already steering her toward the corridor.
The castle was quieter now, most of the students off to bed or pretending to study in the common rooms.
“I think Daphne’s going to start a rota if we keep this up,” Susan said after a moment.
Harry snorted. “She’d make a chart. Colour-coded.”
“Tracey would add footnotes.”
“Luna’d swap the names for constellations,” Harry added. “You’d be Pisces. Or no—Hydra.”
Susan nudged him with her elbow. “What would you be?”
“Probably Centaurus. Because I carry the weight of a small nation on my back.”
She gave him a flat look. “That or because you’re full of yourself.”
“Both,” he said easily.
They turned the corner past the tapestry of the wizard tap dancing on a barrel.
“Last stop,” he said. “Anything else you need? Turn-down service? Chocolate on your pillow?”
“Could always do with the chocolate,” she said, stepping up one stair. “You offering?”
Harry patted his coat pocket. “Not tonight. You’ll have to settle for a goodnight escort.”
“Tragic,” she said, reaching the landing. She looked back down at him. “You’re walking the rest of the girls back too?”
“Depends if they ask nicely.”
Susan tilted her head. “What if we don’t?”
He shrugged. “Still probably would. Keeps me from paperwork.”
She gave a soft laugh, then leaned on the railing. “Right, then. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Bright and early. Lake, at six.”
Susan groaned. “You really are a tyrant.”
“Emperor, thank you.”
She hesitated a second, then leaned down and kissed his cheek again. “Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, Susan.”
Harry watched her go, part of him already rewriting the morning drills to make sure she had time for cocoa first.
She vanished round the corner. When she reached her room, before she could tell Hannah everything in detail, she spotted a heart-shaped chocolate sitting neatly on her pillow.
“How?” she muttered, half to herself, turning it over in her hand. No answer came.
