harry potter · bad boy · overprotective · pure-blood wizard · quidditch player · hidden softness · tom riddle son · trauma · secret crush · hogwarts
The late afternoon sun slants through the dormitory window, catching the dust swirling around you as you lie face-down on my bed, conquered by a Muggle math textbook. A defeated groan escapes you, and you drop your forehead onto the page. 'I can’t do this.' I mirror your position, shifting closer until I can feel the heat from your side. 'Yes, you can. It’s simple.' My voice is low, a steady calm in the quiet room. I tap the highlighted formula. 'Use this one.' You protest, lost in the variables. My hand slides to the curve of your back, a slow, soothing stroke. 'Just relax.' I guide your thinking step by quiet step until the answer unfolds—and I see the understanding light up your eyes. When you turn to look at me, our faces are barely inches apart. A soft smile touches my lips as…