The sharp, clipped voice of Professor Umbridge echoed through the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, her saccharine tone grating on your nerves as she droned on about "theoretical" defensive spells. In your fifth year at Hogwarts, you'd expected more hands-on training—especially with the constant talk of Voldemort's return—but Umbridge had other ideas.
For months now, however, your attention had been less on the boring lessons and more on Harry Potter. You had quietly admired him from afar, your crush growing since the beginning of the year. Harry, though, had enough on his plate, especially with Umbridge breathing down his neck and the growing tension with the Ministry. You couldn't imagine he'd notice someone like you.
Yet, something about today felt different. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Harry glancing at you again. It wasn't the first time, but this time it lingered a bit longer, making your heart skip a beat. Harry sat a few seats away, quill moving quickly over a piece of parchment, but you could tell he wasn't taking notes. His expression was focused, but it wasn't on Umbridge's lecture.
You tried to keep your attention on the lesson, but curiosity tugged at you. What was Harry up to?
As you wondered, Professor Umbridge's syrupy voice sliced through the room. "Remember, my dears, there is no need for practical application in this classroom. We are here to learn the theory of defense, not engage in reckless wand-waving."
You exchanged a frustrated glance with your fellow classmates, but before you could groan internally, something fluttered onto your desk—a folded piece of parchment. You hadn't noticed anyone casting a spell, and Umbridge certainly hadn't. It shimmered faintly with a magical glow as you cautiously unfolded it.
Inside was a moving sketch. The drawing showed you and Harry standing near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the wind softly blowing through the trees in the background. The two of you stood close together, and Harry—sketched in his familiar untidy way—had his hand extended, as if waiting for yours. Beneath the drawing, in Harry's messy handwriting, were the words:
"Would you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
Your heart skipped a beat. Harry Potter had just asked you out. You stared at the parchment in disbelief, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. After months of keeping your feelings to yourself, thinking Harry wouldn't even notice you, here he was, asking you out in the middle of Umbridge's class.
Your gaze flicked toward Harry, who was now pretending to be fully absorbed in his notes, though his fingers tapped nervously against the parchment. He was waiting for your response, and he looked just as nervous as you felt.
With trembling hands, you picked up your quill and wrote a quick response: Yes. Then, with a small charm, you transformed the parchment into a glowing butterfly that fluttered across the room to Harry's desk.
Harry's eyes widened when the butterfly landed in front of him. He glanced around briefly before unfolding the parchment. You watched as he read your reply, and a slow, relieved grin spread across his face. He looked up at you, his green eyes meeting yours with a warmth that made your heart race.
For the rest of the class, Harry kept stealing glances your way, his expression lighter, more relaxed. Every time your eyes met, the connection between you deepened, filled with the unspoken excitement of something new.
As soon as Umbridge finally dismissed the class with her usual high-pitched tone, Harry quickly stood up, making his way to your desk. His eyes were bright, but there was still that nervous energy lingering around him.
"So, um... next weekend?" he asked softly, his voice quiet enough to avoid Umbridge's attention. "For Hogsmeade, I mean."
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yeah, next weekend sounds great," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies swirling inside.
Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly relieved. "I've wanted to ask you for a while, just... didn't know how," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
You blinked, surprised. "You've been wanting to ask for a while?" Your cheeks warmed as you continued. "I thought you didn't even notice me."
Harry's smile softened, and he looked at you with a kind of earnestness that made your heart race. "Of course, I noticed you," he said, his voice a little quieter now. "You're smart, kind... I just wasn't sure if you'd want to go."
You hesitated for a second before blurting out, "I've had a crush on you for months," your face flushing immediately after the words left your mouth. You hadn't meant to say it like that, but it was already out.
Harry blinked, clearly surprised, but then a broad smile broke across his face. "Really?" he asked, his eyes lighting up. "I thought I was the only one."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, grinning like a pair of lovestruck fifth years. The rest of the classroom bustled around you, but it felt like you and Harry were in your own little world.
As the two of you walked toward the door together, side by side, Harry's hand brushed against yours—just lightly, but enough to send a jolt of warmth up your arm. Your breath hitched, and you both glanced at each other at the same time, a shared, nervous smile crossing your faces.
"So... The Three Broomsticks? Next weekend?" Harry asked, his voice a little more confident now as you left the classroom.
"Yeah, The Three Broomsticks sounds perfect," you replied, trying not to focus too much on how close the two of you were walking.
Harry's grin widened, his green eyes glowing with excitement. "Great! See you tomorrow, then?"
"Definitely," you said, barely able to contain your smile.
