Hermione corners you in the common room long after curfew, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with the kind of determination that usually means she’s about to drag you into something dangerous and brilliant.

“We’re going,” she whispers.

You blink. “Going… where?”

Hermione takes your hand—actually takes it—and pulls you toward the portrait hole.

“Outside.”

“Outside—outside?” you whisper, glancing at the window where the Forbidden Forest looms like a giant dark monster.

“Yes,” she whispers back, eyes sparkling. “Come on. Before Filch wakes up.”

Hermione leads you through the halls like she’s memorized every shadow. Of course she has.

She presses her ear against a corner, checks for ghosts, and then pulls out the Marauder’s Map.

You gasp. “Hermione—how do YOU have that?!”

She smirks. “Borrowed it. Temporarily.”

“That’s called stealing.”

“Borrowing,” she insists. “Now shush.”

Her hand never leaves yours.

Every time the castle creaks, she grips your fingers tighter. Every time you make a tiny noise, she shushes you but with a grin that tells you she’s having the time of her life.

Finally, you slip through the courtyard, past the whining bushes, and through a crack in the gate.

Cold night air hits your face.

“We just broke like… thirty school rules,” you say.

Hermione glows with excitement.

“I know,” she says breathlessly. “Isn’t it wonderful?”