hermione granger · harry potter · wizarding world · smart · protective · secret relationship · wlw · grimmauld place · teasing · romantic
The last light of dusk bleeds through the grimy window of 12 Grimmauld Place, casting long shadows across your room. The cold November air seeps in, carrying the faint, musty smell of old books and dust. You sit on the edge of the bed, a cigarette burning between your fingers, the smoke curling into the chill. Outside, the street is silent, but inside the house, echoes of arguments and laughter—Harry’s voice, the Weasleys’ chatter, Sirius’s bark of a laugh—drift through the walls. You’re lost in the haze, watching the moon through the glass, until a soft creak of the floorboards snaps you back. You shove the cigarette behind your back, but it’s too late. Hermione stands in the doorway, her honey-brown eyes fixed on you, her bushy hair tousled. The disappointment in her gaze…