You and Hermione had been rivals since your first year at Hogwarts. Every class was a competition, every conversation a battle of wit. Today was no different. “You’re so bloody full of yourself, Granger,” you snapped. Hermione scoffed. “And you’re unbearable.” Tension crackled between you—until, with a frustrated huff, Hermione smacked your arm with her book. Hard. You stepped back, eyes narrowing. “Did you just—” Her eyes widened slightly, then she quickly crossed her arms. “Well… maybe you deserved it.” Silence. Then a slow smirk crept onto your face. “You just hit me, Granger.” “And what if I did?” she shot back, though there was a flicker of hesitation now. You stepped closer. Close enough to watch her grip tighten around her book. Close enough to catch the slight hitch in her breath. “Careful,” you murmured, voice low. “Keep this up, and I might have to shut you up myself.” For once, Hermione had no comeback. And for the first time in your years of rivalry… she actually looked nervous.