Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y4 ~ Ferret Boy

The soft morning light spilled through the high arched window of the Gryffindor dormitory, casting golden streaks on Y/N's neatly folded robes resting on her bed. She blinked against the light, pulling herself out of a dreamless sleep. The dorm was quiet save for the distant chirping of birds and the muffled voices of students already awake and bustling about the castle.

Stretching lazily, Y/N swung her legs off the bed, her bare feet meeting the cold stone floor. She shivered slightly before reaching for her robes, the familiar crimson and gold trim comforting her as she slipped them on. Standing before the mirror, she began brushing her hair, her fingers working through the soft strands as she debated how to style it.

A loose side braid, she decided. It was practical, neat, and quick enough to leave her time to grab breakfast before heading to Herbology. As she braided, her eyes caught a glimmer of blue on the small wooden shelf beside the mirror.

The butterfly clip.

Its delicate blue wings shimmered in the sunlight, the enamel catching the light in a way that made it seem alive. Y/N picked it up carefully, as though afraid it might break. She traced its edges with her thumb, a warm smile spreading across her face. Harry had given it to her last Christmas, his expression shy but hopeful as he handed it over, wrapped in clumsily folded parchment.

Holding it now, Y/N felt a surge of affection. Harry. Her fingers tightened around the clip. He'd been under so much pressure lately, and though he'd never admit it, she knew the accusations and cold shoulders from some of their classmates were wearing him down.

She carefully fastened the clip to her braid, angling it just right so the butterfly perched elegantly above her ear. "For you, Harry," she whispered softly, meeting her own gaze in the mirror. She straightened her robes and squared her shoulders, as if by wearing it she could somehow send him a silent message: I'm on your side. Always.

The door suddenly burst open behind her, slamming against the wall with a loud thud.

"Y/N!" Hermione's voice was sharp, laced with urgency.
Y/N spun around, startled. "Merlin's beard, Hermione, you scared me!" she exclaimed, her hand instinctively going to her chest. "What's wrong?"

Hermione stormed into the room, her cheeks flushed, and her hair more frizzed than usual from what must have been a hurried climb up the stairs. She looked exasperated, but beneath the frustration, Y/N saw the worry etched in her eyes.

"It's the boys," Hermione said breathlessly. "They're at it again—well, not at it, because they're not even speaking to each other!"

Y/N frowned, crossing her arms. "What happened this time?"

Hermione groaned, pacing the room. "Ron's being an idiot. He's jealous, though he won't admit it. He's accusing Harry of putting his name in the Goblet of Fire—like he's forgotten who Harry is and how dangerous this whole thing could be for him!" She stopped and threw her hands up.

Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples. "And Harry?"

"Being Harry," Hermione replied, exasperated. "He won't even try to explain himself. He just gets defensive, which only makes Ron angrier. They're both acting like stubborn children!"

Y/N sighed, running a hand down her braid. "Hermione, I get it. But we can't get involved. They'll have to sort this out themselves."

Hermione whirled around, her expression incredulous. "How can you say that? They're our friends!"

"I know," Y/N said gently, her voice steady. "But think about it. Ron feels like he's in Harry's shadow-it's not fair, but it's how he feels. And Harry..." She hesitated, her voice growing quieter. "I know what it's like to have people staring, whispering, judging. I remember how people gawked at my scar all summer. I hated it."