Coming Home - Beabadoobee 01:43 ━━━━●───── 04:02 ⇆ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮

You and Harry had a rocky relationship—no fairytale love story, just two people trying to hold on through the storm of war, trauma, and the crushing weight of destiny. Being with “The Chosen One” wasn’t exactly easy. Every argument felt like a battle against ghosts—ghosts of the people you’d lost, of the expectations the world had placed on him, on you both. There were times you almost let go, convinced love couldn’t survive when everything else was falling apart.

But when the war finally ended, it was like someone had opened a window after years of suffocating. For the first time in forever, you could both breathe.

There were still shadows, of course, but now there was light, too. Harry was offered the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts—finally, the job he'd always been destined to take, now that the position wasn’t cursed anymore. And you got to chase your own dreams, the ones you’d shelved for too long—whatever they were, they were finally yours to follow without looking over your shoulder.

The first four months apart were strange but manageable. You missed him more than you expected. The letters helped, but nothing compared to seeing him in person, hearing that laugh, feeling his warmth beside you.

So, when the first term ended, you were beyond excited. You waited at King’s Cross with butterflies in your stomach, scanning the platform as students poured off the Hogwarts Express. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen. No Harry. You started to panic a little, your eyes darting through the crowd, wondering if something had happened.

And then, like a scene ripped from your wilder memories, a flying car came soaring in from the clouds—shaky, dramatic, completely ridiculous. It swooped lower and lower until it landed (barely) in the parking lot beside the station, crooked and hissing steam. You stood frozen in disbelief, half embarrassed and half ready to burst into laughter.

Harry stepped out, windswept and grinning like a madman. His tie was loose, his hair worse than usual, but his eyes lit up when he saw you.

“Sorry I’m late, love,” he called out, opening his arms. “But guess who let me borrow her car?!”