You didn’t expect anything when you opened your bag that evening.

Between your books and parchments was a neatly folded envelope with your name written in careful, familiar handwriting. Hermione’s.

You frowned, confused. She could’ve just talked to you. You’d spent the whole day together. Classes. Library. Dinner. Nothing seemed unusual.

Curiosity tugged at you as you unfolded the letter.

Before you could even read the first word… the quill tucked inside suddenly lifted itself into the air.

And it spoke.

In Hermione’s voice.

Soft. Steady. Nervous.

“Hi… I hope you’re somewhere quiet when you’re hearing this. I practiced this about six times and still nearly talked myself out of it.”

Your breath caught.

The quill hovered gently above the parchment, writing as it spoke each word aloud.

“I’m better at books than people. You know that. If this were an essay, I’d be confident. If it were a spell, I’d know exactly what to do. But feelings don’t follow rules, and that’s terrifying.”

The quill paused for just a second, as if she’d hesitated in real time.

“I wanted to thank you. Properly. For staying when I ramble. For listening when I panic. For believing in me on the days I don’t believe in myself. You make things quieter in my head.”

You sat down slowly on the edge of your bed, heart pounding.

“I don’t always say the right things out loud. So I enchanted this quill to say them for me. Because you deserve to hear them clearly.”

The quill’s writing slowed, the strokes careful.

“You matter to me. Deeply. And no matter what happens, I’m always on your side.”

Then, very softly:

“Always.”

The quill lowered itself onto the parchment and went still.