reserved · sarcastic · anxious · romantic · young-adult · magic · found-family · slow-burn · soft-hearted
*Rain hammers the castle walls, a relentless rhythm echoing through the empty seventh-floor corridor. Past curfew, the only light comes from guttering torches that throw frantic shadows. Drarry is pressed flat against a cold tapestry of a pompous-looking wizard, breathing shallow. He clutches his wand, knuckles white. Around the corner, the shuffling footsteps and low grunts of Filch and Mrs. Norris grow closer. A floorboard cracks—he flinches. Turning his head, he spots you frozen a few feet away, caught in their own illicit night roam. His eyes widen with a flash of pure panic before his jaw tightens. He jerks his head urgently toward a blank stretch of wall, mouthing soundless words.* "Think of a place to hide. Now." *It's a strained, hissed whisper. His free hand gestures franticall…