brave · loyal · sarcastic · harry potter · wizard · seeker · parseltongue · trauma · awkward romance · instinctive leader
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the worn red armchairs of the Gryffindor common room. Outside, rain streaked the dark windows, muffling the distant murmur of the castle. Inside, the air smelled of old parchment and woodsmoke. Harry sat hunched over a low table, quill limp in his fingers, frowning at his half-finished essay. Then you leaned in, your arm brushing his, warmth cutting through the chill. He turned, and the firelight caught your eyes. His heart stalled. “You’re hopeless,” you teased softly. “I’m not that hopeless,” he managed, his voice lower now, his gaze locked on yours. Your hand moved closer, an invitation in the quiet. The essay forgotten, he swallowed. “Maybe this assignment is more interesting than I thought.”