Black and Potter | H. Potter

52 ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆ attracted?

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

| ATTRACTED? |
song: sweater weather by the neighbourhood.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

ARA AND HARRY FINALLY MADE IT TO THE COMMON ROOM, with Harry steadying Ara as they walked despite her protests.

They were delighted to find it empty, Harry immediately sat Ara on one of the couches and told her to wait for him as he dashed towards his dormitory, she didn't say anything this time, she simply slumped against the couch, letting out a quiet sigh. She tried to ignore the immense pain in her hand but was unsuccessful, she could feel a stinging sensation on it, as if someone was pouring salt and lemon on the wound, making it ache even more. On the way, Harry had taken off his scarf so that he could carefully wrap it around her hand, and she felt a bit guilty for it, seeing as it was now almost fully stained with blood.

Finally, Ara heard Harry come down the stairs, she tilted her head back to look at him, he was carrying what seemed to be a first aid kit, he hastily made his way over to her, sat down beside her, and started to open it up, getting out a few gauzes.

"Do you casually just have a first aid kit lying around in your dormitory?" asked Ara, as she shifted slightly to her side to face him.

"It's Seamus'," said Harry, staring to unwrap the gauze.

"I didn't take you for a thief, Bambi," Ara teased, the new nickname rolling naturally off her tongue.

"I'm borrowing it," Harry said dismissively, not bothering to question the new name she'd come up with, he started to unwrap Ara's hand from his scarf so that he could tend to it.

"I can do it," said Ara, as she went to pull her hand away to do it herself, but Harry didn't let go.

"You just got your hand split open, I'll do it."

"You also got your hand split open."

"It's not as bad as yours."

"Seriously, Harry, I can do it—"

"Shut up." Harry shushed her.

"Excuse you—"

"Can't you just let me do this for you?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

Ara gave a defeated sigh and finally let Harry tend to her hand, he gently started to clean the blood with a damp towel, Ara figured he must've gotten it when he went upstairs. He was incredibly careful with his movements, always making sure to glance up every few seconds to check if he wasn't hurting her. After that, he applied what seemed to be some type of ointment, and finally, he started to gently wrap her hand up with the gauze, securing it in place.

Ara had stared at Harry the entire time, feeling the need to just admire his features, the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he healed her hand, the way his lips gave a little pout when her hand unintentionally flinched at sudden contact, and the way he always made sure his movements were incredibly gently gave Ara a funny feeling.

"All done," said Harry.

"Thank you," said Ara softly, staring intently at him before shaking her head. "Now let me do yours—"

"No,"

"Wha—why?"

"You can barely move your hand, I can heal mine—"

"Don't be daft, I can perfectly help you—"

"Why are you so bloody stubborn?" Harry hissed.

Ara raised an eyebrow and leaned so close to Harry that their noses were almost touching, she whispered quietly, "say that again?"