Author: The Plot Bunny Whisperer
Title: Not In Love
Rating: PG-ish
Genre: Romance, Humor
Summary: Harry refuses to believe he's in love, Luna is certain of it, and Hermione is bound and determined to prove to him that he is. Harry/Godric. For Ariaeris. Three-shot.
Pairing(s): Harry/Godric
Warnings: Er...fluff and nonsensicality. Some bad language. Not Dumbledore bashing, per se; more like picking on him.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t care, don’t sue.

AN: Happy belated birthday Riri-kun!! I knew I had an idea somewhere that could work for your request. I rejected about sixty of them before I found this. Hope you like it! This is my first attempt at a first-person POV (I think) so I hope I did well.

This might be a two-shot, but I put it as a three-shot just in case.

Enjoy!

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Not In Love
Part One

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For the longest time, I was absolutely certain I was going to die. I mean, who could fault me, really? Sixteen, nearly blind without my glasses, short, somewhat scrawny, no actual combat experience to speak of (the Department of Mysteries doesn't count, and if it did, then I was even more screwed, if it was possible) going against a seventy-year old Dark Lord who was top of his class, survived as a spiritfor thirteen years, kinda hot before he went all snake-ish, and certifiably insane. And everyone knows crazy people have a way of making things go in their favor.

Yep, I was screwed. Totally, completely, incomprehendably screwed.

That's why I was absolutely floored when Snape came back to the castle one day after going to check up at the evil HQ and told us all that his Royal Snakeness had dropped dead. Literally. He just fell over and died.

I think I fainted after hearing that, but I'll never admit it. Ever.

From what I understand, Voldemort didn't read the instructions to that ritual too well before he decided to use it (not that I'm surprised; what kind of evil dark lord would he be if he had to read instructions? He has minions for that, after all). The reason the old candy-loving walking headache was so excited after hearing that Volds used my blood in the ritual is because apparently you don't want to use blood that has been potentially charmed in any type of spell or potion. Especially blood charmed with heavy maternal protection in a dark ritual meant to revive the blood owner's mortal enemy with the intent to kill said person.

So, for the last three-odd years or so, my blood has slowly and steadily been creeping about in his veins and purifying his dark soul (or whatever), unraveling all the other dark rituals he used on himself until one day the rest of the spells couldn't sustain him anymore, so his heart stopped and he died.

How utterly anti-climatic, right? That's what I thought too. I was all worried and panicked and being a martyr for nothing. And the damned bastard with his stupid beard and stupid candy and stupid colourblindness knew this all along and still let me worry and panic and martyr myself for nothing. Bastard.

So for the first time in a long while I was actually looking forward to going back to Hogwarts, for my last year no less, and for a reason other than being able to leave the Dursley's forever (which I thought of as a bonus). I was perfectly content to believe that I would finally have a perfectly normal (or as normal as you can get in the magical world) year, with no one out to kill me, no big quests or adventures to go on, and hopefully no homicidal Defense teachers out ot make my life hell.

Boy was I wrong. I should have never gotten my hopes up. Of course, my life was never in any danger, not that I can say the same for my sanity - or my virginity.

So here I was. Seventeen, nearly blind without my glasses, still short, still somewhat scrawny, still no actual combat experience to speak of, and still utterly and completely screwed.

I blame Luna. And Hermione. And Dumbledore too, because he's still a crazy bastard and his twinkle is very annoying.

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Okay, so let me backtrack here a little bit. My seventh year started out business as usual. Hermione planning out her study schedule before the train even left the station, Malfoy being annoying, Ron stuffing his face, Neville showing off his new backbone, Luna staring off into the distance, Ginny flirting with anything on two legs. Then the feast, Dumbledore being annoying, boring classes, more boring classes, Snape being a bastard, more boring classes, and a new Defense teacher that didn't know their subject. You know, the usual. The year was going smoothly. Quidditch season was about to start and no one had tried to kill or manipulate me into deadly situations yet. It was nice. Really nice.

Then Luna started going crazy (well, crazier than usual) and started spouting off about the return of something and Migglewuffs and generally started acting more hyper than a Niffler who had just found a room made entirely of gold. If it weren't for the fact that she then started to follow me around the school and to all my classes (while giggling no less) I would have been more than happy to ignore her. However, she was, so I couldn't.

It happened on Halloween. Of course it would. The one Halloween I wasn't absolutely dreading and something still happens to turn my life into chaos. Totally unfair.

Anyway, I digress.

As it turns out, the Founders of Hogwarts didn't actually die. In fact, they didn't all hate each other at the end either, because before they could get to that point, one of them (no one was quite clear on which one, although everyone blamed Rowena anyway) screwed up a potion big time and sent all four of them one thousand years into the future... right into the Great Hall during the Halloween feast of my seventh year with a big flash of light and a boom and even some smoke that smelled a little like patchouli oil.

Cliche, right? I thought so too.

The Hall went completely silent for a good ten seconds. All except for Luna, who started squealing loudly in my ear in joy; she was sitting right next to me at the time since she was stillfollowing me around school and giggling, even to the Gryffindor table during meals and sometimes to the tower because she apparently had charmed the Fat Lady into letting her in whenever she wanted.

Sometimes, she scares me. Seriously.

All that her squealing accomplished, of course, was breaking the silence and bringing the attention of aforementioned Founders strait to our end of the Gryffindor table. As well as the attention of the rest of the hall.

Note to self: Add 'Kill Luna in the most painful and embarrassing way possible and hide the body' to my To Do list.

Why? Because at that moment, Luna threw her arms around my shoulders and said loud enough to be heard in Pakistan, "Oh, Harry, you're going to look so cute in your tuxedo!"

Did I mention she was nuts?

At this point I was rather resigned to being her experimental teddy bear, considering she's been doing the same thing for nearly a month. I did my best to ignore the fact that there were at least four hundred people looking at us, four of which were the Founders of our school whom had supposedly died a thousand years ago, and one of said four whom was now staring at me with a not-quite innocent look in his eyes. I felt the prickles of doom go down my spine, but I was pretty much used to that by now.

"Oh?" Yes, I was extremely eloquent. Shut Up.

"Yes! You'll look so cute, and handsome, and it'll bring out your eyes, and oh, I guess we'll have to do something about your hair of course, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. I can't wait for the wedding!"

Wait. Back up. What?!

"What?! What wedding?"

This is the point where I faint for the second time in my life, not that I'll ever admit to it. Ever. It's also the reason I must kill her, because she said, and I quote, "Your wedding to Godric Gryffindor, of course!"

To the entire. Great. Hall.

Which now included the Founders.

One of which whom had been staring at me for the past ten minutes and now looked like he'd won the lottery.

...Did I mention I was screwed?

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