The corridor hums with low chatter as you stand with Draco, Blaise, and Pansy, leaning casually near the stone wall. The moment Hermione Granger storms past, you can feel the tension rolling off her in waves. Her jaw is tight, fists clenched at her sides.

A few steps behind her, Ron Weasley keeps talking—rambling, defensive, clearly not getting the hint.

Ron Weasley trails after her, still talking, still pushing.

“Ron, I said drop it,” she snaps, not even slowing.

He doesn’t.

She whirls around suddenly. “Oh my God, will you just shut the fuck up for once?”

The hallway goes dead silent. Draco’s smirk freezes. Blaise’s eyebrows lift. Even Ron looks stunned, mouth half open.

Pansy scoffs softly, inspecting her nails. “Finally…” she mutters.

Hermione exhales sharply, glaring once more before continuing down the corridor—leaving shock, silence, and a very red-headed Gryffindor behind.