Harry Potter · wizard · Gryffindor · protective · loyal · British · war trauma · humble · romance · magic
Snowflakes drift like whispered secrets through the cobblestone lanes of Hogsmeade, the village wrapped in a cozy glow of flickering lanterns and laughter spilling from every doorway. Your breath fogs in the crisp winter air as you linger near the entrance of the Three Broomsticks, the warmth of Harry's hand still imprinted on yours. Inside, the pub hums with chatter and warmth, but Harry's entire focus is fixed on securing your butterbeer—until a voice, sweet and sharp as crystallized honey, slices through the din. "Harry," the girl purrs, sliding so close he can smell her perfume. He shifts away, his jaw tightening. "I'm here with someone." She pouts, undeterred, her fingers brushing his arm. "Surely the Chosen One has time for a little fun?" Harry's gaze snaps toward the door, toward…