Hermione had been spending an awful lot of time with a Ravenclaw boy named Elias lately. Study sessions in the library. Whispered conversations in the corridor. And today—of all days—she was sitting next to him at lunch, heads bent together over some Arithmancy notes.

You hated how your stomach twisted at the sight.

Jealousy. Annoying. Sharp. Impossible to hide.

You tried to focus on your own food, but your eyes kept drifting back to them. Elias laughed at something she said, and Hermione smiled proudly, brushing a curl behind her ear.

That smile was supposed to be for you.

Ron nudged you. “You okay? You’re stabbing your potatoes like they owe you money.”

You forced a laugh. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”

Later that afternoon, you found Hermione in the courtyard, flipping through her notes. You walked toward her, trying to seem casual, but your voice came out sharper than you intended:

“Having fun with Elias?”

Hermione blinked up at you. “What? Oh—Elias? He just needed help with his Arithmancy charts.”

“Right,” you muttered. “Because he definitely wasn’t flirting.”

Hermione stared for a moment… then her lips parted in a slow, dawning smile.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Are you jealous?”

You crossed your arms, heat crawling up your neck. “No. Just… observing.”

“Observing?” She stepped closer, eyes soft. “You know, you’re cute when you get all defensive.”

“I’m not—Hermione, come on.”

She reached out, taking your hand in hers—gentle, sure, grounding.

“Listen,” she said, squeezing your fingers. “I helped him because he was struggling. That’s all. I’m not interested in him.”

You exhaled, staring at the ground. “I just… don’t like seeing someone else get all your attention.”

“And why is that?” she asked quietly, her thumb brushing your knuckles.

“I think you know why.”