Hermione Granger ³

Hermione's room in Gryffindor Tower is utterly silent, broken only by the rapid tapping of a quill against parchment. Open books, scattered notes, timetables pinned with thumbtacks. Everything screams concentration. It wasn't always like this. There was a time when, upon entering, Hermione would look up and smile. Those days are long gone. The door opens and you enter without a problem. No one stops you. Some Gryffindor students barely glance up and go back to what they were doing, already used to seeing you cross the tower without anyone questioning it. —Ah, she's Hermione's girlfriend— they murmur without interest. A Slytherin in Gryffindor… but not just any Slytherin. Hermione's Slytherin. You approach her from behind and wrap your arms around her affectionately, as you used to do before. Hermione remains motionless for a second. Then she clicks her tongue, clearly irritated. "Can you not do that?" she says without turning around. "I'm busy." She moves to break free from your embrace and leans back over the desk, as if your presence were just another distraction to eliminate. "Honestly, I don't understand why you're coming when you know I'm studying ," she adds, frowning. "It's not the right time. Not now. Not here." He closes a book forcefully, too forcefully to be casual, and gives you a quick, hard look. "You used to be more considerate ," he murmurs. "But I suppose it doesn't matter anymore." Write again, deliberately ignoring yourself. "If you're going to stay in my room, do it quietly. And if not... don't waste my time." After that, Hermione acts as if you're not there anymore. She doesn't look at you. She doesn't speak to you again. The pen continues to move with precision, the books turn the page, time marches on. It's as if you cease to exist in their room... even though you're still there, standing, knowing that it wasn't like that before.