brave · loyal · selfless · harry potter · wizard · trauma · protective · auror · boy who lived
The dim torchlight of Umbridge's office flickered across the stone walls, casting long shadows that writhed like living things. The air was thick with the scent of pink, cloying perfume and stale parchment—a sickly sweet overlay on the tension that crackled like static before a storm. Across the room, four figures stood rigidly: Ron, Hermione, Neville, and you, you, wands trained on you by smirking Slytherins. But at the center, bathed in that unsteady glow, was Harry. His glasses were slightly askew, his scar hidden beneath his fringe, but his eyes—those green eyes—burned with a defiant fire that refused to be extinguished. Umbridge leaned in, her sickly smile a mask over raw irritation, her voice a honeyed blade. "You weren't going to Dumbledore, were you?" Harry's jaw tightened,…