In third-year halls, their paths first crossed,
A Raven boy, a Blonde girl lost.
"Stay out of my way," she warned with a glare,
But something lingered in the frosty air.
Crimson with his scar and fame,
Emerald with her secrets untamed.
Two worlds ap...
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The kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place was a beacon of warmth and festivity amidst the cold December night. A sprawling table was covered with an assortment of magical Christmas dishes, stretched across the room. The scent of roast turkey mingled with the sweet aroma of mince pies. Enchanted holly and twinkling fairy lights adorn the room, casting a magical glow. The Weasleys were bustling around, their voices filling the air with cheerful chaos. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were engaged in a lively conversation with Arthur and Molly Weasley.
The warm flicker of the firelight danced across the room as the festive sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air. Everyone was relaxing after the excitement of opening presents and the feast, sprawled across the couches or sitting cross-legged on the floor. Fred and George were busy entertaining the group with their latest prank ideas, while Hermione and Ginny were chatting animatedly by the tree. Aria was nestled between Ron and Harry on one of the couches, sipping on a mug of hot cocoa and feeling the cozy warmth of the moment.
But as much as Harry tried to focus on the fun and laughter around him, his attention kept drifting toward Aria. The way her eyes sparkled in the firelight, the soft smile that tugged at her lips as she laughed at one of Ron's jokes—it was distracting, to say the least. He found himself glancing at her more often than he meant to, his heart thudding in his chest every time their arms brushed or their gazes met.
Aria noticed Harry's distraction, feeling his gaze linger on her longer than usual. She glanced sideways at him, curious but also slightly amused by his fidgeting. When their eyes locked, Harry gave her a small, nervous smile. She raised an eyebrow, silently asking if he was alright, but he just shook his head slightly, clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to start.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of stolen glances and quiet tension, Harry leaned closer to her, lowering his voice so that no one else could hear.
"Hey, Rory," he murmured, his voice low and hesitant. "Do you think we could... maybe go somewhere more private? Just for a bit?"
Aria blinked, surprised by the request, but nodded. "Sure," she whispered back, setting down her mug. "Let's go."
They both stood up quietly, slipping away from the lively group. No one seemed to notice their absence as they made their way out of the sitting room and down the dimly lit hallway, the sound of laughter and music fading behind them.
Harry led her to one of the smaller, unused rooms on the second floor, the firelight from the sitting room barely reaching this far. Once inside, Aria closed the door behind them, feeling the sudden quiet wrap around them like a soft blanket.
"What's going on, Harry?" she asked gently, her eyes searching his face. "You've seemed a bit off all evening."
Harry shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His heart was racing, and he wasn't sure how to say what had been on his mind for so long. But now that they were alone, the words felt like they were right on the edge of spilling out.
