harry potter imagines

001.|| poetic [h.p.]

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summary // you and harry met through parchment and developed feelings through poems.

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poetic

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staring unconsciously at a couple from your claimed tree branch, your mind wandered about what your next poem should be about. life? hate? random stuff? you have no idea. your eyes processed the couple's actions. the girl with caramel-coloured hair fiddled with their entangled fingers, smiling in bliss with a blush on her face. feeling a little bit of uneasiness from the hand-holding lovers, you recognised the man's face and felt sympathy for the girl in his arms.

isn't he the one snogging another girl on the girl's lavatories? this man is fucking disgusting.

while thinking about what might happen next if she found out about the guy's infidelity, a certain word came across your mind and it struck an idea in your head. hurt. she'll be hurt.

you thought about an unhealthy relationship. a relationship filled with lust, infatuation, hurt, anything but love.

you thought for a while and your hand wrote the lines on your parchment. your ink seeped through the crisp surface of the parchment, making its mark. the sounds your quill is making are giving you vibes of relaxation, drowning your mind with pleasure and making you forget the passing time.

roses are red
violets are blue
sugar is sweet,
so are you.

what a cheesy poem. shame it's just the beginning.

that's what you said first,
when you two are 'loving' each other.
but what happens next,
when you fancied another.

blood droplets are red,
bruises became blue
the sugar jar is empty,
so are you.

your eyes scanned the parchment. this is where all your parchment go. poems, poems, and more poems. you always ran out of parchment because of these, but you still don't know if you regret it because you're proud of your work.

you looked at the couple earlier. they're gone now. maybe they went to their classes, leaving you alone.

you looked at your pocket watch, with its golden chain sparkling under the sun. your eyes widened at the time, seeing your schedule.

your defense against the dark arts class started five minutes ago!

you gathered your things rapidly, and sprinting at full speed to go to the classroom as soon as you can. oh merlin, why must literary be so enchanting?

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you entered the room, huffing and panting like you did a ten kilometre marathon before entering the classroom. well, you think you did. there, you were greeted by professor umbridge and her sickly 'sweet' voice. she fake coughed, gathering everyone's attention.