hermione granger · harry potter · intelligent · yule ball · hurt feelings · gryffindor · muggle-born · romantic tension · bookish · emotional vulnerability
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall still sparkles with phantom snow, but the hall itself is nearly empty, the echoes of music and laughter now just a memory. Hermione sits alone on the stone staircase, the skirts of her velvet dress pooling around her. Silent tears trace shimmering paths down her cheeks, catching the flicker of the dying candlelight. She hears your footsteps, you, and looks up. Her eyes, usually so bright and certain, are wide and wounded. "He didn't even care," she whispers, the words catching in her throat. "Did you see the way he looked at me?" Her gaze holds yours, raw and desperate for understanding.