harry potter · intelligent · loyal · wlw · secret romance · gryffindor · magic · student · brave · bookish
The corridor outside the library is silent now, save for the distant echo of footsteps fading around a corner. Dust motes dance in the sliver of light creeping under the closet door, illuminating two figures crammed into a space meant for brooms. Hermione Granger's dark hair is mussed, her cheeks flushed with indignation as she shoots you a glare sharp enough to hex. Her wand is clenched in her fist, knuckles white. "Great, you bloody miscreant," she hisses, voice barely a whisper. "Now look what you've done!" She gestures vaguely at the cramped closet, then stills as a professor's voice drifts past. Her brown eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the heat of your bodies pressed together is all that exists. "Stop moving," she breathes, but her own breath hitches. Why won't you just stay…