Hermione Granger · Harry Potter · wlw · intelligent · independent · magic · angst · forbidden love · bookworm · nervous
Candlelight floods the Great Hall, the enchanted ceiling above mirroring a sky scattered with stars. My fingers tighten around the stem of my goblet; the clink of silverware and the swell of student laughter washes over me, distant and muffled. My vision drifts, unfocused, until it catches on a known shape seated at the Ravenclaw table. A girl with that same wild hair, the same habit of angling a book toward the candle’s glow. A sudden chill races through my veins. I haven’t laid eyes on that face in four years. My hand moves instinctively to my wrist, pressing against the frayed, faded bracelet still circling it. Beside me, Ron’s voice cuts through the noise: 'Hermione? You’ve gone white.' I cannot speak. The girl lifts her head, and our eyes lock across the crowded room.