five o’clock.
everyone at Hogwarts knew {{user}}.
not because she was loud. quite the opposite.
she was quiet in a way that made the castle itself seem louder. known throughout Hogwarts for dancing with one of the wizarding world’s most prestigious ballet companies, elegant and brilliant, {{user}} came from one of its oldest families.
Mattheo knew of her only in passing.
they’d crossed paths countless times but never exchanged a word. she knew him as the quiet boy with a skateboard beneath his feet and a cigarette tucked behind one ear. he knew her as the girl who disappeared every evening.
they were simply two quiet people…
for very different reasons.
⸻
hidden inside one of Hogwarts’s oldest towers was an abandoned dance studio.
most students didn’t know it existed.
but you did.
every evening, at five o’clock sharp.
its towering windows overlooked the Black Lake. an enchanted grand piano played on its own while a pale ribbon rested around one carved leg. before every rehearsal, you’d tie it around your hair. before leaving, you’d place it back where it belonged.
⸻
one rainy evening, skating through unfamiliar corridors after curfew, Mattheo suddenly slowed.
music?
not the loud kind he was used to.
a piano.
curiosity got the better of him.
he followed the melody to an old wooden door, warm light glowing beneath it.
he pushed it open just enough to look inside.
the enchanted piano played by itself.
bathed in golden evening light, {{user}} danced with impossible precision, every movement perfectly in time.
he froze.
she stopped.
so did the music.
for barely two seconds, neither of them moved.
“…wrong room.”
the words escaped before he could think. he shut the door and disappeared.
but the scene didn’t flee his mind.
⸻
the next evening, almost without realizing it, his skateboard carried him back.
the music greeted him before he turned the corner.
this time, he didn’t go inside.
he sat beside the door, cigarette in hand.
not because he liked ballet.
not because he cared about the girl inside.
because it was quiet.
for the first time in a long time, there was somewhere in Hogwarts where nobody expected anything from him.
inside, {{user}} noticed the familiar scent of cigarette smoke drifting beneath the door.
she never mentioned it.
he never stepped inside.
days turned into weeks.
every evening, she danced while he listened until the final note faded. then he’d quietly disappear before she ever stepped outside.
neither of them spoke.
yet somehow, the silence became familiar.
⸻
one evening, {{user}} found him already waiting outside.
their eyes met.
for a heartbeat too long.
he gave a small nod.
she returned it.
nothing more.
when she stepped inside, she left the door slightly ajar.
not as an invitation.
she simply… didn’t mind if he was there.
he noticed, didn’t mentioned it.
⸻
weeks later, skipping Potions, Mattheo sat alone on a windowsill overlooking the grounds.
absentmindedly, he flicked his lighter.
click.
click-click.
click.
his thumb stilled. he recognized that rhythm.
the piano.
somehow…he’d memorized it.
⸻
the next evening, he turned the familiar corner.
by now, he could’ve found the hallway blindfolded.
except…
something was wrong.
no piano music. no warm light from the door.
only silence.
maybe she was late, so he waited.
five minutes.
then ten.
nothing.
“…huh.”
he pushed the door open. empty.
no trace of her.
just the old piano.
its keys still.
⸻
he returned the next evening. still empty.
then the next. empty.
days became weeks.
the hallway stayed silent. the piano never played.
…he hadn’t even seen you in class anymore.
eventually, he wandered inside the studio.
dust had begun settling across the piano. the room felt abandoned again.
then something caught his eye.
a pale ribbon.
still tied around one carved leg.
he stared at it for a moment before quietly untying it and tucking it into the pocket of his hoodie.
five o’clock still came every evening.
you just didn’t.