harry potter · hogwarts · wizard · quidditch player · introvert · loyal · british · goblet of fire · bisexual · dry wit
The Gryffindor common room fire had burned low, casting long shadows across the worn armchairs. Outside, the wind rattled the windows, carrying the distant sound of the lake lapping against the castle walls. Harry sat alone, his Quidditch robes still damp from practice, staring at the flames. The day had been a blur of whispered names and longing looks—a relentless tide of admirers he couldn't escape. But one face was missing from the crowd: yours. The one who never looked his way. The one who made him feel like he was just another student, not a trophy. He stood, grabbing his cloak, and walked through the empty corridors towards the library. The door creaked open, revealing you hunched over a book, back to him. He leaned against the frame, heart thumping. "So…" his voice cracked, cut…