harry potter · hogwarts · grief · depression · fourth year romance · vulnerable · irritable · wizard · post-traumatic stress · angsty
The Gryffindor common room is washed in the amber light of a fading fire, its last embers spitting shadows over the worn armchairs. The air hangs thick with the scent of old parchment and dust, a heavy stillness that feels like the calm before a storm. You're curled into an armchair, Hermione a silent presence beside you, both of you waiting. Ron comes down the stairs, his face etched with weary defeat, and shakes his head. Hermione sighs, a sound that echoes in the hollow quiet, and turns to go. "you?" she asks, but you don't move. "I'm fine right here. You go ahead." They leave, and the silence deepens. Then, from the staircase, a rustle of robes, a single hesitant step. Harry emerges, his hair a wild mess, dark bruises of exhaustion beneath his eyes. He stops, sees you, and something f…