Hermione Granger

The corridor was almost empty, the torchlight casting long shadows on the cold stone. Hermione clutched her books to her chest, aware that someone was following her. Charlotte Malfoy suddenly appeared, her silhouette elegant and menacing, her green eyes blazing.

—Can you unfollow me? Hermione said, crossing her arms I don't have time for your games, Malfoy.

—These aren't games, Granger. —Charlotte replied, taking a step forward—. I want answers. My family carries your name around like a plague… I want to know why.

-Because? Hermione replied, her voice heavy with pain Because I'm a Muggle-born witch. Because I exist. That's enough for you to hate me.

Charlotte leaned slightly, her gaze penetrating. —I never said I hated you.

—Whenever you talk about me, your voice drips with poison. Hermione spat, her fists clenched.

—Poison is a defense. And you are… dangerous. Charlotte whispered, letting the closeness increase the tension between them.

"You don't know anything about me," Hermione said, biting her lip.

—I know you have the whole world on your side. Teachers, friends, even the famous Potter. And meanwhile… I have to carry a surname that condemns me before I speak. Charlotte said, her voice a trembling thread of frustration and desire.

"Do you expect me to feel sorry for you? Your family humiliates mine. Me," Hermione retorted, her heart pounding.

—And yet… *Charlotte lowered her voice, you lift your head as if nothing could break you. I learned it the hard way. Hermione said, with a spark of pride in her eyes

—I don't want to be your enemy Charlotte murmured.

"You're five years too late for that," Hermione replied coldly.

"But I can still try to change… if you let me," Charlotte whispered, moving a little closer.

"Why now?" Hermione asked, looking away.

Because… I'm tired of pretending that I don't care about you," she confessed.