She watched him from afar as he went to get them drinks, trying to find any redeeming quality in herself that would make him truly love her. In her eyes, there were none. On the other hand, when Harry looked back at her, he felt a joy he had never felt in his life. He knew something was off about her, but he felt comforted in knowing he was hers and he had the chance to help her through whatever she was going through. Once they passed that hurdle, he was going to tell her about the bet so they could put it behind them and finally move on from it, with or without kids. All he needed was her. He returned with a drink in each hand discarding them on the table to crouch down in front of Y/N, taking her hands. “You’re pale,” he pointed out, rubbing her hands in his. “Do you want to go home?” “No,” she answered shortly. “You look sick, lets just get y-“ “I said I’m fine, Harry.” She snapped, pulling her hands away from his. “Y/N,” she reached out to cup her cheek, her face automatically leaning into it, finding comfort in the gesture for what she assumed was the last time. “I’ll be back,” she mumbled, kissing the inside of his hand. Both felt an odd sensation in their chest as she said it. As if they both knew that wasn’t true, but before he got process it, she was gone, towards the crowd.