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It was one of the first things he noticed when he finally laid his eyes on Harriett Potter again: the absence of her boots. But then he let her know he knew and she was crying on his shoulder and it was only his love and worry for her left.
Leo’d known she’d been involved in something dangerous and beyond her for years, but it hadn’t prepared him for this. As he held her and led her to Dogwood Lane, his mind raced. He’d known, but it was different having that face to face confirmation, to have her here in his arms and to know he was likely one of the only people who knew it all. All he’d done to make sure she was safe, but this, her beautiful, dangerous ambition; there wasn’t much more he could do to help her now.
An hour wasn’t enough. He wanted explanations, of course he did, but her safety and wellbeing were paramount. They would have time later. They better have time later. Besides, Leo was pretty sure he could piece it together well enough himself. He’d had so many clues; it was a wonder he hadn’t figured it out before.
Leo just hoped he was the only one who could. If any in his court had suspicions, they would keep it to themselves or it would be their ears.
Hours after they were forced to bid a goodbye to each other, the sight of those trainers haunted his thoughts. Perhaps all his worries for Harry compounded in those very wrong trainers. Had she ever entered the alleys not wearing her boots?
And then her birthday was nearing, and Leo couldn’t get those horrid, completely wrong trainers out of his head. He still didn’t know what had happened to her boots, but he knew there had to be a reason she had stopped wearing them. His Harry would never.
He’d joked about it before, even bought himself a pair for brewing with her, so it was no thing at all to purchase a pair.
And even if her boots were fine, he was sure Harriett Potter would appreciate having more than one pair.
His chest ached as he thought of her. Over the past several years his feelings had grown until they practically overwhelmed him, and now knowing all she had risked, well he was a mess. He’d made her aware, but even at that point he hadn’t known the depth of his feelings.
Harriett Potter was something else.
Sitting across from Rispah in the Dancing Phoenix, he considered it. Three years. It’d started slow enough, but then she’d taken a root in his heart. At first, he could easily dismiss it as if she were a friend, a member of his court, who he had an obligation to care for. But it just wasn’t the truth.
Leo’s feelings for the girl went so far beyond just any random member of his court. He was sure his cousin was aware, and others in his inner circle, but he hoped no one else was, especially not Scar or Claw or those others who thought to challenge him. He couldn’t let them know Harry was his weakness.
Leo didn’t know if she’d be allowed out on her birthday, but still he waited in the alleys, his chest full of hope. He could owl her his gift, but he wanted to be with her when she saw it, wanted to see the way her eyes lit up with joy. Every day for weeks, he stood out there, roaming from the Serpent’s Storeroom to Mulpepper Apothecary, every day ending with disappointment when she didn’t appear.
Finally, on the seventh of August, Harry returned to the alleys once more. He’d been carrying the boots around with him for over two weeks to Rispah and Marek’s great enjoyment.
The day he turned the corner and saw those brilliant green eyes once again outside of Mulpepper Apothecary, he beamed and walked towards her.
“Hello, lass.”
Harry turned towards him, and her smile made his heart ache that much more. “Leo.”
His name on her lips was a beautiful sound.
“I have a gift for ya.”
“Leo…” A crease formed between her brows.
“It’s just a little birthday present,” he said gently. “Want to go to Dogwood Lane?”
She nodded, and together they walked to her lodging.
Inside the apartment, he reached into his pocket, withdrew the shrunken package, and handed it to her.
Harry unwrapped them, and then just stared at him. “Leo…” she whispered.
His lips turned up in a broad grin. “If you knew how wrong you look in your trainers… I just want the best for you.”
Harry clutched the boots to her chest, and he could see the tears in her eyes even as she fought them back.
“I noticed you haven’t been wearing your boots recently.”
She nodded. “I… had to vanish them. Evidence. You know.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Of course.” He cracked a wry smile. “Can you wear these?” She looked down at them, the soft leather, the resistent soles. “I know they aren’t yours, aren’t worn in just yet, but are they good enough?”
“Yes.” Her smile broke his heart. Was that possible? For a gift he’d given her to make her so happy that he positively was aching? He pushed down the pain, pushed down his love; she had more than enough to deal with right now.
“Good.” He’d stolen from Auror’s evidence boxes for her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her; he hoped she knew that. He would always help her when, if she were in danger. Leo just hoped that she would be in danger less now, rather than more.
He eyed her trainers, she eyed her trainers, and then she grinned and slipped them off.
It felt so right, watching her slip the boots onto her feet. Perhaps all wasn’t right in the world, but at least here was something.
Harriett Potter was back in boots.