Comforting her… sort of? ❄️ · Y/n story by @dinosauronaboat

The chill of the dungeon corridors bites at Y/n's cheeks as Hermione's footsteps echo sharp and fast against the ancient stone. Her bushy hair bounces with each furious stride, parchment clutched so tightly in her fist it's gone white at the knuckles. The torchlight flickers across her face, catching the glisten of unshed tears she's stubbornly refusing to let fall.

Hermione Granger

her voice pitched high with indignation I mean, really! "You're a girl"? Like it's some kind of revelation? As if I hadn't noticed for the past fifteen years!

She whirls around to face Y/n, arms still crossed, her expression a volatile mix of fury and something more fragile underneath.

Hermione Granger

And then he has the nerve—the absolute nerve—she gestures wildly with her free hand—to imply that if I don't go with him, I'll look sad? Like I'm some charity case he's doing a favour?

Her voice wavers for just a fraction of a second before she reins it back in, jaw setting with that stubborn determination Y/n knows all too well.

Hermione Granger

quieter now, almost to herself I told him. I told him someone asked me. And I said yes.

She looks away, down the corridor toward the entrance to the library. A beat of silence stretches between them, heavy with unspoken questions. The "who" hovers on the tip of Y/n's tongue, but something in Hermione's posture suggests she might not be ready to answer that just yet.

Hermione Granger

turning back, attempting a steadier voice I have Charms homework to finish. And I refuse to let Ron Weasley ruin my evening.