99 Results in the "Harry Potter" fandom
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Harry rubbed his tense neck, letting out a frustrated sigh. “All right, let’s just avoid any more…explosions, okay?” Daphne tried not to grin, giving him a sideways glance. “What, like it’s the first time?” He laughed, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. “Okay, smartass, buffer then. Something gentle. How about moonflower?” She raised a brow, shaking her head slightly. “Bit too hyped up for me. More like magical coffee. Lavender’s boring, sure, but at least it won’t…-
227.3 K • Ongoing
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Harry pulled a sandwich out of his bag and took a big bite. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was tired. And satisfied. Training with Hermione and Ron had been, to be honest, fantastic. A completely different vibe compared to when he trained alone. The big green turtleneck he had on today; the one Hermione said matched his eyes perfectly, was a little soaked with sweat since he hadn’t really had time to change. But it didn’t smell, so he figured it was fine and made his way toward the library.…
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227.3 K • Ongoing
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The campsite was alive with activity as wizards from across the globe prepared for the Quidditch World Cup. Everywhere Harry looked, he saw enchanted tents sporting the colors and banners of rival teams, magical cooking fires, and witches and wizards chatting animatedly in dozens of languages. “This is brilliant,” Ron said, his eyes wide as he turned to take it all in. They followed Mr. Weasley through the winding pathways of the campsite, dodging excited children chasing enchanted Quaffles and…
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227.3 K • Ongoing
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Harry stepped through the portrait hole and froze. The common room was still full, every conversation cut off the second they saw him. Of course, they were waiting for him. Ron stood near the fireplace, eyes wide, mouth half open like he was about to speak but didn’t know what to say. Hermione was further back, arms crossed tight over her chest. She looked pale. Surprisingly Neville got to him first. “Are you okay? Where have you been?” he asked nervously. Harry looked at Neville and felt…
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227.3 K • Ongoing
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He had spent years constructing them not as people, but as silhouettes burned into the walls of stories other people told. They had become a kind of myth in his mind, embalmed in secondhand adjectives and mournful looks across dinner tables. Brave. Beautiful. Gone. But myths, when confronted with fact, collapse in ways that feel like betrayal. There was no grandeur in the stone. No revelation in the dates. Only arithmetic. A beginning. An end. Nothing in between. It struck him with the quiet cruelty of a…
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227.3 K • Ongoing
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