Harry Potter with Technology System-Chapter 441: Moments

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Day passed like a blur, but not the sort that dragged. It was the sort that came with too much to do, too many places to be, and just enough chaos to keep Harry moving. Somewhere between last-minute potion batches and exchanging quips over charmed parchment, the next round of ’moments’ happened.

First came Hannah. She caught him just before Herbology, hair tied back with a ribbon that probably matched one of Sprout’s spare gloves. She didn’t say much, just handed over a neatly folded note and raised an eyebrow like he was supposed to know what to do with it. He did.

"Greenhouse Four," it read. That was it.

He showed up after class. She was already there, standing among the flutterby bushes like she belonged. As he called her, she turned, cheeks pink, hands still a bit dirty from planting.

He stepped closer to her, brushing his palm against the leaves of a flutterby bush.

"You showed up," she said, clearly not surprised.

Harry gave her a quick glance. "You wrote it like a command."

"You are awful at ignoring those."

"I am."

She brushed her hands off against her skirt, leaving streaks of compost that didn’t seem to bother her. "I thought maybe you would be too busy saving the school."

"Finished that early," he said. "Had time before tea."

She opened her mouth, but Harry stopped her by stepping closer into her space. "I’ve been meaning to say something," he said, eyes scanning hers.

Hannah blinked. Her fingers tightened just slightly around the hem of her sleeve. "You are not going to ruin it, are you?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Depends on what ’it’ is."

"You and me. This." She gestured vaguely at the soil-sweet air between them, the slow, honest rhythm they carved in stolen conversations and dances. "I like how this feels."

Harry nodded. "Me too. But I think it’s time I stop treating moments like these like they are just nice accidents."

Hannah waited.

"You remember that dance?" he asked. "Yule Ball. Everyone was spinning in layers of nonsense, but you..." His smile twitched. "You were just real. Asked me straight out, ’Are you actually enjoying this?’"

She smiled, the memory lighting her cheeks.

"And I was," he said. "Because it was you."

Her throat worked around silence.

"You were the one who never asked for more than I could give," he continued, "but gave anyway. Calm, time, gentleness, stuff I forget I am allowed to have."

Hannah, unblinking now, whispered, "That sounds a lot like love."

"It might be," he said. "I am still figuring that bit out. But I know I don’t want this to be temporary."

"Good," she said, voice light. "Because I ruined my favourite skirt for this, you know."

Harry grinned. "Think it’s worth it?"

"I think you are," she said.

He kissed her then, not rushed, not dramatic. Just the kind of kiss that fit in Greenhouse Four, among flutterby bushes and streaked skirts, and the quiet thrill of being seen.

Luna caught him that evening, alone. She had a habit of showing up when Harry’s thoughts were most crowded, but never pushed her way in... just stood quietly until he noticed her, like she’d been waiting for him to finish whatever mental maze he’d been walking.

This time, it was near the lake. Dusk had settled into a lilac hush, the surface of the water dappled with reflected starlight and the slow blink of castle torches. Luna stood barefoot on a mossy rock, her shoes dangling from one hand, toes wriggling in the cool air like she was listening to something beneath the ground.

"You always find the best rocks," Harry said, hands in pockets

Luna tilted her head at him, a smile blooming slow and warm. "The trick is not looking. Rocks are shy. You have to let them come to you."

Harry huffed a quiet laugh and stepped closer, careful with his boots on the damp bank. "And what did this one tell you?"

"That you would be here soon," she replied, completely earnest.

He looked away for a moment, gaze skimming the lake. "Few people would wait in the cold just for a hunch."

"I am not most people," Luna said, as if confirming a known fact.

He nodded. "No, you are not."

She offered him a hand, still damp from balancing on stone. He took it.

They didn’t speak at first, just stood together, wind teasing their hair, the castle lights blinking like sleepy stars across the water.

He turned to look at her. "You matter the way a compass does. When everything else tilts, you point true."

She blinked, then gave a small, pleased sigh. "I suppose that means I get to keep the title of Empress, then."

Harry grinned. "Only if you promise not to build a throne out of cauldron lids."

"No promises," she said, but her fingers laced through his like she always meant them to.

They sat down eventually, the rock chilly under them, but neither pulled away. Luna rested her head on his shoulder, and he leaned into it.

"You once told me strength wasn’t about power," she murmured. "That it was about confidence."

"I remember."

"I think you are still learning that for yourself."

Harry chuckled softly. "Yeah. Probably always will be."

"That is alright," she said. "I will remind you."

The moon rose behind the towers, casting a pale glow over them both. Somewhere, the lake rippled as if stirred by unseen hands.

"We okay?" he asked quietly.

Luna didn’t move, but her voice was clearer than the breeze. "We are Luna and Harry. That’s always been more than okay."

And somehow, that settled everything.

They didn’t kiss. Not then. But the quiet between them felt like the promise of something already blooming, slow and strange and sure.

Pansy found him a day after. This time, she made sure no one could ruin her moment.

She met him in the Astronomy Tower... not by accident. The note she left in his book bag simply read, "Stars are clearer when you stop pretending you don’t need to look up." Typical Pansy. Cryptic and dramatic.

Harry showed up anyway. She was already waiting, perched on the railing like she owned the night.

"Finally," she said, without turning around.

"Had to make sure I didn’t get lured into another wind-based ritual," Harry said, stepping closer.

Pansy glanced at him sideways. "You are late."

"You are dramatic."

"That is why you like me."

"Debatable," he said.

She turned fully now, moonlight catching on her cheekbones, sharp and soft all at once. "No, it is not."

Harry didn’t reply. Instead, he walked up beside her, leaned elbows on the ledge. The stars were painfully clear. The kind of sky that made you feel small and stubborn at the same time.

"Do you believe in fate?" she asked.

"Sometimes," Harry said. "Other times I think it is just people making loud choices and pretending it was meant to be."

"That sounds like something Daphne would say."

He smiled. "Probably did."

Pansy nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "You know, I hate how easy you are with everyone."

"Thanks?"

"I mean it. You let them in so easily. Like Tracey with her stupid puzzles. Or Hermione and her books. Or Luna with her... scarf entropy. You give everyone pieces."

Harry looked at her, brow slightly furrowed. "You think I haven’t given you anything?"

"No," she said, voice softer. "I think you gave me a piece so sharp I keep cutting myself on it. And I keep coming back for more."

Silence followed. Not heavy. Just careful.

Then, Harry said, "You are not easy, Pansy. But you matter. And I see you. Even when you perform. Especially then."

Pansy inhaled like that hurt. Or maybe helped. "Say that again."

"I see you."

She closed her eyes, just for a moment. "You always do. Even when I am trying not to be seen."

"Especially then."

She opened them, stepped closer, crowding his space like she was daring him to flinch. He didn’t. So she leaned in.

The kiss was short. Fierce, but not angry. Performed, yes, but honest underneath.

When she pulled back, Harry still hadn’t moved.

"That will be in the Prophet by morning," she said, smug and breathless.

"Only if they catch how good you looked," he replied.

Pansy blinked, then laughed, full and unrestrained. "Merlin, you are trouble."

"Only for you."

"Damn right."

They stood side by side, neither quite ready to leave.

Above them, the stars watched, unblinking.

And for once, Pansy didn’t need a spotlight. She had Harry looking at her like she was the night sky herself.

She found him leaning against the Quidditch pitch rail. Ginny didn’t hesitate. She hopped onto the rail next to him, balancing like it was second nature. "I figured you would be brooding somewhere scenic."

Harry shot her a look. "I was considering a nice corridor sulk, but the stars lobbied hard for the outdoors."

She smirked. "Good. I hate corridor sulking. Too many portraits."

She then leaned back slightly, hands catching the edge of the rail. "Do I get a speech too?"

She took a breath that shook slightly at the end, "Wait, let me say this first."

Harry looked at her and nodded.

"Remember the time when you took me and Luna to see Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest?"

Harry gave a small smile, "Yeah. We had to leave early because of a strange hum."

She nodded, visibly swallowing. "At the time, that music didn’t just daze me... it showed me an image."

Harry froze.

At the time, he assumed the strange melody was some attempt at Legilimency, dangerous enough to drag both Ginny and Luna out by the arms without second guessing himself. He hadn’t dared to look back, much less question it out loud.

But hearing Ginny say it now, quietly, her voice shaking just a touch, he realised he hadn’t understood just how much it had affected her.

He turned toward her, brows furrowed. "What did you see? Are you still seeing it?"

She flushed, looking away, strands of her hair catching the breeze like they were trying to hide her. "I do. Some nights."

Harry stepped closer without thinking, hand settling gently at her elbow. "Ginny, what was it?"

She exhaled through her nose, more embarrassed than frightened now, and said softly, "I saw a wedding. Yours and mine."

"And it wasn’t strange. It felt... inevitable."

That stopped him cold.

It wasn’t a joke. Wasn’t her teasing. Her voice was steady, even if her cheeks were warm. Harry blinked, then gave a short, disbelieving laugh, but it didn’t sound mocking. Just... stunned.

"You sure it wasn’t just some... twisted vision from the spell? Maybe it was meant to confuse you."

Ginny finally looked up at him, chin tilted defiantly now. "I thought that too. First few times, I told myself it was a fluke. But it wasn’t like a dream. It was... warm. Real."

He held her hand, fingers curling around hers like it was second nature. "That would make me the happiest man on Earth, Ginny."

She squinted at him, mock-suspicious. "Happiest how many times, with your harem?"

Harry burst out laughing, not even pretending to deny it. "I am just lucky you all love me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That is not a defence, Potter. That is statistical chaos."

"Still works."

She gave him a sideways look, then grinned in spite of herself. "Alright then. Let’s say you weren’t entirely awful at feelings. What would you want, really?"

Harry’s expression shifted... playfulness settling into something quieter, warmer. "Honestly? A future that feels like that forest. The unicorns and just... all of us."

Ginny looked out over the pitch, the ghost of that memory flickering in her mind. "Do you think we get that? After everything?"

He didn’t answer right away. Just leaned slightly into her side, shoulder brushing hers. "We fight for it. Doesn’t mean we don’t deserve it."

Ginny tilted her head toward him, strands of her hair catching the breeze. "You are getting good at this, you know."

"What, being accidentally wise?"

"No," she said, smiling. "Letting people in."

She stood up then, balancing on the rail again like she didn’t quite believe in falling. "You still owe me a rematch," she said. "Quidditch. One-on-one. None of that noble letting-me-win nonsense."

Harry grinned, standing beside her. "Deal. But you’ll regret it when I wipe the sky with you."

She didn’t blink. "Hope. Maybe."

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New Fic Announcement - Cassian’s Story Begins!

Hey everyone!

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Harry Potter and the Surprisingly Competent History of Magic Professor

Cassian Rosier was a failure, a near-Squib mocked and dismissed by his entire pureblood family. But after one humiliating disaster too many, he dies. And in his place wakes up a man from our world...

...a man who’s never read a Harry Potter book, never watched the movies, and suddenly finds himself in the body of a disgraced wizard with nothing but a ruined reputation and a wand he can barely use.

When forced to give a lecture on magic, Cassian bluffs his way through Lumos... and accidentally unlocks an ancient variation of the spell, along with memories that aren’t his. Some of those memories are helpful. Others... are darker than he is ready for.

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