sevenseasofpanicattacks

[sevenseasofpanicattacks]

Winter hike problems and a half-blood witch

Penny Haywood x Gen!Reader

Warning: Post-graduation idk

Fluff, reconciliation, MC being a bit neglectful accidentally, hurt and comfort, Penny is love sick and insecure (not a good combination).

It's my first doing a one shot (that's published that is), much less a first POV, but when I saw Penny on the bed and hiding her boiled filled face during that Quidditch feast event, I just had to write her getting lost in a snowy mountain with MC. Not relevant but it's been on my mind since yesterday and I just had to write at least something. Anyways, enjoy!

I was supposed to say 'it wasn't supposed to end like this' but it did, and I half expected it.

Doesn't mean I wanted it to happen.

I huff as I sat on the wooden floor, it creaks from the force and I wince from the impact. I hastily remove my wet jacket on, and my snow covered gloves and laid it beside me. Behind me I hear Penny closing the door and walking up to me. "We'll be stuck here for a while, so I suggest that we make ourselves comfortable..." I grumble, placing my wand on the floor with a sigh.

The woman sat beside me with a huff, she's close, just an inch away and our shoulders are touching. She does not speak, perhaps guilt ridden that we are stuck here in a cabin on a mountain far away from our camp.

I glance at her when the silence stretched too long, and try to observe her condition. Her hair is full of snow and frankly, quite a mess, her face half buried in the scarf which I placed moments before our separation from the group but I can see the bridge of her nose is red, likely from the terrible hazard outside. She's wearing a bright yellow winter coat and jeans, both wet from the weather and because we fell from a cliff. Her blue sapphire eyes, which she keeps from looking at me, focus intently on her hands, fiddling with her thumbs.

I sigh as I lean back, putting my hands on the wood as I look around the cabin we found ourselves in. "Muggles are so nice, they built such a place for lost travellers on the mountain?" I comment idly, sneaking a glance at her from the corner of my eye. She does not speak, but she stops fiddling with her thumbs. "It kinda reminds me of a certain person, who would spend hours on making difficult potions for silly ol' me, who's always the first person to visit me in the hospital wing for doing Merlin knows what, and the first person to see me instead of the young sibling of the mad Jacob, who went insane searching for cursed vaults." I smile to myself, feigning a thinking pose as I let out a hum.

"I wonder, will I ever get to meet that person again, the one who's so excited over the simplest thing known in earth?" I ponder out loud, turning to her fully with a gasp.

This time she meets my gaze with amusement, and hidden guilt, but I smile at her. "Hi sexy, you single?" I wiggle my eyebrows, mimicking the guy who tried to hit on her at the start of our hike.

She giggles softly at last, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "You're terrible." She huffs out, and I shrug, reaching out to remove the snow on her head.

"Maybe next time I'll make us wear those matching couple shirts, in case my arm around your shoulders aren't enough of a hint." I joke about, earning a laugh from the blond witch beside me.

"... I'm actually wearing the other pair right now." She shyly admit, and I have to swallow my laugh but a smile breaks through my face as I settle my hand on her head.

"Damn Haywood, you're making me feel bad I didn't wear mine now." I grin, my hand sliding down to her shoulder as I sat upright.

"Well, why didn't you?" She pulls the scarf down to reveal her smile, her lips plum and shivering. I couldn't help but lick mine and stare, now noticing how mine was dry compared to hers.

"When the others said to prepare for a hike, a shirt isn't really a good outfit to wear." I mumble, my eyes flickering up to stare at her eyes, and I really regret now not wearing the shirt. Why didn't I? Who cares about cold anyways?

She shakes her head and laughs, tearing her gaze away from me to stare at the fog covered window, her shivering not ceasing. I take her hand, entwining our fingers together because honestly? I feel scared too, we were alone on a mountain, it's snowing crazily outside and we don't have contact with the others. I fear that something might have happened to them, that they're still out there, looking for us in this weather.

"... I'm sorry." Her guilty tone snaps me out of my thoughts, and I stare at her, mirroring her frown.

"You were not at fault, the snow giving out is not on purpose, you wouldn't have known you'd fall, nor would you have known it would snow this bad." I tightened my grip on her hand, but not enough to hurt her. No way I would let her blame herself in this situation, but she just shakes her head and tried to pull her hand away from my grasp.

"It's— it's not that, it's just—" I keep my grip, not letting her go. It almost takes us a few minutes, but she resign ultimately.

"I... I'm sorry because I... I- I feel almost happy this happened." She admits, she dares not to turn to me, but from her voice alone I can hear her ashamed. "After graduation, after R, I feel like we haven't found time to be properly together, between finding jobs and hanging out with friends — it's almost impossible for us to be together..." She sigh, her shoulders dropping further with each words that comes from her mouth.

"I missed you, so much, that this unfortunate incident felt like a miracle to me, and I was happy at the thought of being with you while you were busy saving our lives." She croaks softly, sniffing softly after.

I feel so dumb, and so much guilt at the thought of my neglecting my beloved girlfriend so much that this is the only time we finally got together after a year at most. "Pen, I'm sorry, I really am... I didn't realise that's what you felt all this time..." I frown, pulling her gloved hand to my face and clasping it with the other. "I'm so sorry, Pen, I didn't mean to be so unavailable to you, I really didn't."

She turns to me then, her blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and shakes her head lightly. "I know you didn't mean to... I know you had so much on your plate. I just... I guess I didn't know how to tell you without sounding selfish. I didn’t want to be another thing you had to worry about."

I let out a shaky sigh, guilt settling in my chest like a stone. "You were never a burden, Penny. Never. You’re the one thing that keeps me grounded, even when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. I should have made more time for you. For us." My voice cracks at the end, but I don't care. She deserves to know how much she means to me.

She sniffles softly, finally leaning into my touch. Her forehead rests against mine, and for a moment, the cabin feels warmer, cozier. "I just missed you," she whispers, her breath ghosting over my lips. "Missed us."

"I missed us too," I admit, my voice low. I tighten my hold on her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "We’ll make this right, Penny. I promise. No more letting life get in the way of us. You’re my priority now."

Her lips tremble into a small smile, and she nods. "You mean it?"

"Always," I reply without hesitation, leaning in to press a kiss to her cold forehead. "We’ll get through this storm together, just like we always do. And once we're out of here, I’m taking you on a real date. No interruptions. Just us."

She laughs softly, the sound breaking the tension and warming the air around us. "You better. And I want matching couple shirts for the date."

"Deal." I grin, pulling her closer until she’s tucked against my side, her head resting on my shoulder.

Penny shifts against me, her weight warm and comforting despite the damp chill clinging to her clothes. I glance at her face, noticing how her cheeks are still flushed from the cold, but there’s a faint smile playing on her lips now. It’s enough to make my chest ache. I lean my head back against the wooden wall, letting out a soft sigh.

"We need to warm up before one of us gets sick," I mutter, tilting my head toward the darkened fireplace in the corner. "Think you’re up for a little spellwork?"

She sits up slightly, following my gaze. Her eyes narrow as if she’s assessing the situation. "I can manage," she says, her voice firm despite the lingering shiver in her tone.

I stand, my knees protesting after sitting on the hard wooden floor for so long. The air in the cabin is bitterly cold, it pricks my skin and raises goosebumps. Penny rises as well, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth as she watches me approach the fireplace.

The hearth is empty save for a pile of logs stacked neatly to the side. Whoever left this cabin must have anticipated emergencies like ours. I gather a few pieces of wood and stack them carefully, glancing back at Penny, who has pulled out her wand.

"I’ll start it," she offers, stepping closer. Her hand trembles slightly, but she steadies it with a deep breath. "Incendio."

A small, controlled flame sparks to life, licking at the edges of the logs before growing into a modest fire. The warmth spreads almost instantly, the golden light casting dancing shadows on the cabin walls.

"Not bad," I say, grinning at her. "You’ve still got it."

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a hint of pride in her smile. "Of course I do. Someone has to keep us from freezing to death."

"Good thing I have you, then," I reply, kneeling beside the fire to stoke it gently with a nearby poker. The crackling flames grow stronger, and I can already feel the chill in my bones beginning to fade.

Penny lowers herself onto the floor beside me, stretching her hands toward the fire. Her wet clothes steam faintly as they begin to dry. "We should hang our jackets and gloves by the hearth," she suggests, glancing at the pegs on the wall.

I nod, rising to retrieve our belongings. As I hang them up, I glance back at her, bathed in the warm glow of the fire. Her golden hair, now free of snow, gleams in the flickering light. She looks up and catches me staring, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.

"What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I say, shaking my head with a smirk. "Just glad you’re here."

Penny scoffs softly, but the corners of her lips twitch upward into a smile. She shifts closer to the fire, letting the warmth seep into her. Her shivering lessens as we both sit in a comfortable silence, the crackling fire filling the cabin with a soothing rhythm.

I lean back, stretching my legs out in front of me, and glance around the room. It’s small but sturdy, with a few basic supplies tucked into corners—a small shelf of canned food, a kettle, and what looks like an old blanket draped over a chair.

"We got lucky finding this place," I muse, turning my gaze back to Penny.

She nods, her hands rubbing together in front of the flames. "Yeah. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if we didn’t." Her voice is softer now, contemplative, and it makes me glance at her a bit longer than I probably should.

"You know," I say after a moment, breaking the quiet, "if you think about it, this isn’t the worst place to be stuck. I mean, sure, we fell off a cliff, got separated from the group, and nearly froze to death, but at least we have a fire. And canned beans." I point toward the shelf with a mock-serious expression.

Penny laughs, the sound light and musical in the otherwise still cabin. "You’re ridiculous," she says, shaking her head. "But I suppose you’re right. Things could be worse."

I grin, basking in the rare sound of her laughter. "See? That’s the spirit. We’ll make it through this, and when we do, we’ll have one hell of a story to tell."

She tilts her head, her blue eyes meeting mine. "And what’s the moral of this story? ‘Don’t hike in the mountains during a snowstorm’?"

"That," I say, pointing a finger at her, "and always bring a Penny Haywood along, just in case you need someone to save your sorry arse."

She snorts, rolling her eyes. "You saved me, remember?"

"Team effort," I say, winking.

She shakes her head again but doesn’t argue. Instead, she leans back against the wall, her shoulder brushing mine. The contact is small but grounding, a reminder that we’re not alone in this.

The fire burns steadily, casting its warmth and light over us as the storm continues to howl outside. For now, we’re safe. Together. And that’s enough.