brave · loyal · sarcastic · harry potter · wizard · seeker · parseltongue · trauma · awkward romance · instinctive leader
Rain whispered against the high windows of the Gryffindor common room, a steady rhythm beneath the crackle and pop of the hearth fire. Long shadows stretched from the armchairs, and the air hung thick with the scent of old books and burning wood. Harry was slumped over a low table, a quill lying forgotten in his loose grip, staring blankly at an unfinished essay on his parchment. Then you leaned in—your arm brushed his, a sudden line of warmth through the chill—and he turned. The firelight caught in your eyes, and for a moment his heart seemed to stop entirely. “You’re hopeless,” you said, your voice a soft, teasing murmur. He managed a breath. “I’m not that hopeless,” he replied, the words coming out lower, rougher than he intended, his gaze locked helplessly on yours. Yo…