|| 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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The moon peeked through the clouds, hiding and reappearing like a shy beauty unsure of its own glow. A soft breeze rustled the trees, making the leaves sway gently.
Y/N absorbed the setting, her focus drifting away from her classmates. Tonight, the world outside the castle held her attention more than any conversation or laughter.
She couldn't sleep. The nights seemed to be something to dread because of her thoughts. Nightmare after nightmare, she started to wonder if the scar on her head was making her act like Harry Potter. Draco's snarky joke lingered in her mind.
He was someone she hated yet tolerated, like an annoying brother. She'd never think of him as family, though.
Y/N began to lay down on the grass patch outside the castle, her mind wandering as her eyes traveled across the stars. She was fascinated by their beauty.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the surroundings, catching a hint of a familiar scent that drew her in.
Her smell
Another sense kicked in, pulling her thoughts in a way she didn't quite recognize. The smell wrapped around her mind.
Y/N closed her eyes, breathing it in deeply.
How exhilarating it was. A breath of it sent a shock of relief and pleasure through her. It felt like a potion she needed but refused to take, scared of running out too soon.
The scent—sweet and floral, like a blooming garden—enveloped her, comforting yet intoxicating, though she didn't know where it came from.
The moonlight faded, leaving her in darkness. She opened her eyes to find Hermione standing over her, looking down with a playful grin. Y/N didn't flinch, not even a little.
"I was trying to scare you," Hermione giggled, a hint of embarrassment hidden in her voice.
"Not quite," she replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
With a huff, Hermione settled down beside her on the grass, the tension of the moment shifting as they shared the silence of the night.
Y/N continued lying there, glancing at Hermione. She was dressed for comfort in a simple white camisole, her Gryffindor cardigan draped over her shoulders, and loose-fitting trousers that hinted at cozy evenings. She looked ready for bed, and yet, here she was.
"It's almost past curfew, you know." Y/N said, glancing around as if someone might catch them. She sensed Hermione was aware of that. Perhaps she had her reasons, but Y/N chose not to overthink it.
"Of course I know," Hermione replied, her tone light yet teasing.
"Then why are you here?" Y/N's tone was dull, hinting that she wanted Hermione to leave. She wanted to be alone.
