Pure; It's what her name means. Pure. Catherine. It's a beautiful name itself. Though, it fits her so well. Catherine Malfoy is not like her family. She's pure. She doesn't enjoy the ravishing joy of bullying. She would never embark on a journey wit...
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"No talking!"
The Gryffindor common room cocooned us in its comforting warmth, the crackling fireplace casting a gentle glow on the lion-emblazoned tapestries. In our pajamas, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and I gathered in a circle of cushy armchairs, the enchanted ceiling above mimicking a serene night sky.
Lounging in my chair, my soft black pajamas creating a cozy embrace, I leaned back, ready for our nightly conversations. "Alright, mates, bedtime talk. What's the latest buzz in the wizarding world?"
Ron, grinning, eagerly shared a rumor. "Fred and George reckon the kitchen house-elves are planning a rebellion for better conditions."
I chuckled, playing along. "Ron, you can't seriously believe everything the twins say. They're likely just stirring trouble."
Harry, glasses perched on his nose, joined the conversation. "I agree. House-elves seem content, don't they?"
As our discussions shifted, I couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. In the glow of the firelight, his features were softened, and the familiar warmth he brought to our conversations felt different tonight. Unsettled, I shook off the notion, attributing it to late-night musings.
Hermione, wrapped in her red pajamas, interjected with responsibility. "Before snacks, let's finish that Potions essay. Snape won't be happy if we show up without it tomorrow."
We sighed in agreement, reaching for parchment and quills. As we huddled together, conversation flowed seamlessly, but my attention kept drifting to Harry. There was something about the way he listened, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled—details that seemed to resonate differently tonight.
After a productive study session, Hermione closed her book with satisfaction. "Alright, I think we've earned our late-night treats. But remember, Ron, no getting caught this time."
Ron mock-saluted. "Prefect Granger, your wish is my command."
The idea of a snack run hovered in the air, but I hesitated to suggest it. Instead, we remained in our cozy corner, the fireplace flickering as laughter filled the space.
In a quiet moment, Harry's gaze met mine, and for an instant, the world seemed to still. A subtle warmth lingered in that exchange, leaving me both intrigued and uncertain.
As the clock struck midnight, we dispersed to our dormitories, each lost in our thoughts. In the quiet of my room, I replayed our conversations, realizing that maybe there was more to the connection between Harry and me. It was as if the enchanted ceiling above had whispered secrets only my heart could hear.
The Gryffindor common room, now bathed in a soft glow, settled into a tranquil night. In my cozy pajamas, I drifted off to sleep.
An enchanted garden unfolded under the moon's gentle glow. Vivid flowers illuminated the path, and the air carried a sweet blend of night-blooming scents. Celestial fireflies danced around, weaving trails of light.
