It was an ordinary afternoon at Hogwarts, the kind where the castle felt comfortably alive with soft chatter, drifting parchment, and the occasional flicker of misfired magic. You wandered into the library, drawn in by its familiar scent of old books and ink—your quiet refuge over the years. The warm stillness of the place greeted you like an old friend, the towering shelves and flickering candlelight a promise of peaceful study.

But peace, as always, came with a caveat.

Tucked away at a secluded table in the farthest corner—behind a tall stack of spellbooks and at least three “No Talking” signs—sat the infamous Golden Trio. Hermione Granger, ever the determined academic, was valiantly attempting to steer the group toward productivity. Meanwhile, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were doing their best to derail the effort with whispered jokes, charmed paper airplanes, and a suspiciously exploding quill.

You knew better than to get involved. Truly, you did. But with that trio? Avoiding chaos was never really an option.