|| hermione/ fem reader ||
a slytherin like you can't possibly be entangled with a muggle-born.
Where loyalty is everything, you are given a crucial mission: lead Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, who has declared his return. As you navigate this dang...
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Harry couldn't shake the feeling of dread as he made his way toward the bridge, Hermione trailing behind him.
"I can't believe you still haven't figured out the clue for your next task. You know how important it is!" Hermione's voice was firm, but Harry could hear the worry beneath it.
"I've been a bit..distracted," he replied, stopping mid-step. "The dreams keep getting worse. It felt like Voldemort was right there with me." He instinctively touched the scar on his forehead, feeling its familiar pang.
Hermione's expression softened with concern. "You really need to talk to Sirius," she urged, stepping closer. "He might know what's going on."
Harry shook his head. "I'm just so tired of this."
Hermione placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "I understand, Harry. I can't stand seeing you like this."
He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the strands tightly as if trying to pull out the tension. "I just want to be done with it all," he admitted.
As they approached the bridge, Harry spotted Cedric rushing toward them. Panic shot through him, and he instinctively tugged on Hermione's shirt, hoping to turn back, but she didn't catch on quickly enough.
"Harry!" Cedric called out.
"We can talk about this later, Mione," Harry said, excusing himself as he turned away from the bridge.
Hermione looked back, confusion evident on her face, clearly offended that their conversation had been interrupted.
"Potter!" Cedric said again.
"Cedric," he replied, keeping his back to him for a moment longer. But when he finally turned around, he was met with Cedric's sincere gaze.
"How are you?" Cedric asked, slightly out of breath.
"Spectacular," Harry replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
Cedric nodded, his eyes darting down to the wooden planks beneath them. "I wanted to thank you for what you did. I never got to say it properly."
"It's fine. I'm sure you would've done the same for me," Harry said quickly, eager to escape the conversation.
"Exactly!" Cedric leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "You know the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor? Let's just say it's not a bad place for a bath."
He raised his eyebrows suggestively, a playful grin on his face.
"Just take a nice warm, bubbly bath with your egg," he winked before turning to walk away.
Harry stood there for a moment, processing Cedric's words. The hint lingered in the air.
**
Y/N sat alone at a table in the Great Hall, her head bowed over a bowl of soup. She felt a familiar gloom settle around her, the clamor of laughter and chatter around her only amplifying her isolation.
