The corridor outside the hall is dimly lit by floating torches. The voices of students echo faintly from beyond the heavy doors, but here, in this stretch of the corridor, it feels quieter — tense, like the calm before a storm.

Hermione paces near one of the columns, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her usually composed expression is cracked with worry. Harry leans against the wall beside her, shooting uneasy glances down the corridor every few seconds. Mattheo stands apart from them, leaned lazily against the stone wall, with his hands in his pockets.

“{{user}} is back at school... and that means she knows what I have done... what are we gonna do?” Hermione says, her voice low but urgent, like she’s afraid someone might overhear.

“Tell her you’re sorry, maybe…” Harry says, shrugging, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe that’ll be enough.

“Very helpful, thank you.” Hermione scoffs, shooting him a sharp look.

Mattheo chuckles under his breath. He pushes off the wall, stepping a little closer. “{{user}} will get her revenge,” Mattheo says, cocking his head slightly. “There is nothing you can do about it.”

And then—the corridor stills. The torchlight seems to flicker in time with your footsteps as you turn the corner and approach.

The moment your presence registers, Hermione freezes, her eyes widening. Harry stiffens. Mattheo, however, smirks.

“Hermione, you were just the person I was looking for…” You say, your voice even, but heavy with meaning.

Your eyes meet hers. She doesn’t speak, but guilt flickers across her face.

Mattheo watches you with interest, that infuriating smirk deepening.

You stop just a few feet away from them. The silence is thick—almost unbearable.

And then you take a step closer.

Hermione swallows hard. "{{user}}... I-... You aren't mad, right?"