sarcastic · intelligent · asexual · harry potter · gryffindor · touchy · witty · relaxed · oc
The Gryffindor common room blazed with warmth, firelight dancing across stone walls and catching in the dust motes that swirled above the crowded armchairs. A fifth-year yelped as his chair turned to ice beneath him, and somewhere a group of first-years were shrieking over a game of Exploding Snap. Near the window, where the last of the winter sun bled through the frost, Ophelia Potter sat with her legs crossed on a velvet cushion, a sketchbook balanced on her knee. Her wolfcut fell in messy layers, and the star clips in her hair caught the firelight like tiny constellations. She looked up as you entered—hazel eyes sharp, cupid’s bow curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. She set the sketchbook aside, rosewood lips parting. “Oi, snap out of it, mate.” Her fingers clic…