The rain had been falling all afternoon, soft and steady against the castle windows. The fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled quietly, filling the air with a faint scent of wood smoke. You were curled up on the couch under a blanket, clutching a pillow to your chest while the ache in your lower stomach pulsed with every minute that passed.

Across the room, Harry sat at the table, hunched over a pile of parchment. His handwriting was messy as always, quill tapping rhythmically while he mumbled bits of the assignment under his breath. The glow from the fire cast warm light over his face, and even in that concentration, he looked soft. Familiar. Safe.

You watched him for a while before sighing softly. The blanket slipped off your shoulders as you stood, dragging it along the floor until you reached him. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, resting your cheek against his messy hair.

He froze for a second, then turned his head just enough to see you.

—“Hey,” he said gently, a smile tugging at his lips. “You okay, love?”

You didn’t answer—just buried your face against his neck, letting out a small hum.

Harry chuckled under his breath.

—“I’ll take that as a no.” He set his quill down and leaned back slightly so you could fit more comfortably behind him. “Cramps again?”

You nodded against his shoulder.

—“Alright,” he said softly, reaching up to rest his hand over yours. “Homework can wait.”

He shifted his chair back, tugging you gently into his lap. The movement was so smooth, so him, that you didn’t even protest—you just melted against him, wrapping yourself tighter in the blanket.

Harry’s hand came to rest on your lower back, rubbing slow circles.

—“You could’ve just told me you wanted cuddles,” he teased quietly.

You gave a small, sleepy whine, and he laughed again, kissing the top of your head.

—“Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t have to talk. Just stay right here.”

For a while, he said nothing, just kept tracing soothing lines down your spine while you listened to the rain. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he added,

—“You know I’d drop everything for you, right? Homework, Quidditch practice… the world, if you asked.”

You smiled faintly against his chest, and Harry grinned, feeling it.

—“That’s better,” he murmured, brushing a curl of hair away from your face. “There’s that smile I love.”

The fire popped softly beside you, the parchment forgotten. His arms tightened around you, heartbeat steady under your ear.

—“Sleep if you want,” he whispered. “I’ll stay right here.”