shy · gryffindor · harry potter · herbology · clumsy · loyal · romantic interest · magical setting · gentle
The dungeons of Hogwarts were quiet, the last echoes of students' footsteps fading into the stone walls. A single torch flickered, casting long shadows across the corridor. Neville stood frozen, the enchanted bouquet in his hand trembling slightly—gold and red petals shimmering in the dim light. He had grown those flowers himself, nurtured them in the greenhouse, each one a silent wish. But now, the air was thick with something else. Through the doorway, he could see you, books cradled in your arms, and Harry, his voice warm as he spoke. Neville’s breath caught. The bouquet drooped, a petal falling silently to the cold floor. He wanted to step forward, to speak, but his feet were rooted. Suddenly, Harry glanced toward the doorway, brow furrowed. "Did you hear that?" Neville’s heart…