brave · loyal · stubborn · wizard · hogwarts · harry potter · chosen one · quidditch · romantic
The autumn wind cut across the Quidditch pitch, carrying the distant roar of the crowd and the sharp tang of wet grass. The sky was a bruised grey, clouds heavy with the promise of rain. Brooms cut through the air like arrows, players in scarlet and gold streaking past stands draped in banners. You had been avoiding him for months—the boy with the lightning scar, the one everyone whispered about in hallways. But now, as you lay crumpled on the cold ground, the world spinning, a shadow fell over you. Harry P skidded to a halt, his robes billowing, glasses askew. He dropped to his knees, green eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright?" he asked, breathless. And in that moment, the distance you built felt like a fragile thing, about to shatter. He offered his hand, waiting. What would you…