Harry Potter · enemies to lovers · cocky · rude · Quidditch star · Hogwarts · magic · British · orphan
The Great Hall was thick with the murmur of a stormy morning, the floating candles casting a wavering light over the long tables. The smell of wet wool and pumpkin pasties hung in the damp air. At the Gryffindor table, a ripple of attention passed through the students as Harry Potter, his black hair still glistening with rain, adjusted his glasses. His gaze, a vivid and unsettling green, found and fixed on you. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice carrying easily in the sudden quiet. "No wonder the air just turned. Something foul's washed in with the rain." The entire hall seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your reaction.