Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y4 ~ Yule Ball

The dormitory was cloaked in a silvery, pre-dawn haze, the faint light from the enchanted windows casting long, pale shadows across the room. The air was sharp and cold, carrying the dampness of the castle's ancient stones. Y/N was buried under her thick blankets, a cocoon of warmth she was reluctant to leave. But that peace shattered abruptly when Hermione yanked the covers away with a swift, determined motion.

"Why were you down there with Harry so long last night?" Hermione demanded, her sharp voice slicing through the stillness.

Y/N groaned, shielding her face from the sudden chill. "Morning to you too, Hermione," she muttered, her voice muffled as she pulled her pillow over her head. "What time is it, anyway? And what are you on about?"

Hermione planted her hands on her hips, her frizzy hair catching the dim light like a halo of copper. "Don't play coy with me. You and Harry were down in the common room for ages, and when you finally decided to come up, you looked—different. Now spill it!"

Y/N froze. The events of the previous night rushed back like a tidal wave, and her eyes snapped open. "Oh no," she whispered, sitting up abruptly, her hair a wild mess. "Oh no, oh no—Hermione!"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "What? What happened? Did you two have a fight or something?"

"Hermione, you don't understand—"

"Then help me understand," Hermione interrupted, her tone softening as she grabbed Y/N's wrist. "Was it good news or bad? Did he say something about the Yule Ball?"

Y/N shook her head rapidly, her cheeks heating despite the cold air. "No, no, it's... better. So much better." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We kissed."

The silence that followed was deafening, save for the distant caw of a raven outside. Hermione's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with astonishment. Then, as if a dam had broken, she burst into excited giggles, bouncing on her toes.

"You kissed? As in, really kissed?" Hermione exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch. "Y/N, why didn't you tel me last night? You have to tell me everything!"

"Calm down!" Y/N hissed, glancing nervously toward the other sleeping girls. "Alright, fine, just—let me get dressed. Meet me in the common room."

Hermione grinned triumphantly and darted out of the girls dormitory, leaving Y/N scrambling to throw on her warmest clothes. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her sweater as her mind replayed the kiss—Harry's hesitant approach, the way his eyes had searched hers for permission, the way the world seemed to fall away when their lips met.

The Gryffindor common room was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth. The warm glow illuminated Hermione, who was perched on the edge of a worn armchair, her foot tapping impatiently.

When Y/N appeared at the base of the stairs, Hermione shot up, practically dragging her to sit by the fire. "Start talking," she commanded, her brown eyes alight with curiosity.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at her friend's enthusiasm. "Alright, alright," she relented. "It happened last night after everyone had gone up to bed. Harry caught me on the staircase."

Hermione leaned in, her expression rapt. "And?"

"And he just... looked at me, like he was trying to figure out what to say. He was so nervous, Hermione. I could feel it."

Hermione pressed, her hands gripping the edge of the armchair. "What did he say?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her lips curving into a shy smile. "He brought up the night we went after Peter Pettigrew with the Marauder's Map last year. He asked if I remembered it. I said I did. And then..." Her voice trailed off, cheeks flushing. "He asked if he was my first kiss that night."