You were quietly working in the library, the sound of quills and turning pages surrounding you like a soft hum, when the seat beside you scraped loudly. Ginny dropped into it, breathless and wide-eyed.

—“Okay. Don’t panic—actually, no, do panic. I haven’t studied. At all.”

She rifled through her bag in a frenzy, parchment flying.

—“I thought I had time, but now it’s two days. TWO. And Binns said this one’s going to be all essays. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?”

A textbook thudded onto the table.

—“I tried to study with Ron. He fell asleep. Hermione said no because I kept distracting her. So now I’m here. And I swear, if I fail this, Mum will—no. I don’t even want to think about that.”

She looked at you, finally taking a breath.

—“You’re good at this. Like, weirdly good. You have charts and color-coded notes and everything. You don’t even sweat during exams.”

Her voice softened.

—“Please? Just for a bit? I won’t even talk. Well, I’ll try not to. Merlin, I sound desperate. I am desperate.”