The air in the Great Hall felt different lately — lighter, but heavy in a way {{user}} couldn’t quite explain. Across the room, laughter spilled from the Slytherin table. Draco sat there, his arm draped casually around the girl everyone now knew as his new girlfriend. Her hair gleamed under the candlelight, her laugh like something out of a dream.

{{user}} looked away before their eyes could meet. It used to hurt — seeing him like that — but tonight, it was quieter. The ache wasn’t sharp anymore. Just… dull, distant. Like an echo that finally knew it was fading.

Hermione noticed the glance and gently nudged her friend. “You okay?”

{{user}} smiled softly, swirling the pumpkin juice in her goblet. “Yeah,” she said truthfully this time. “I think I am.”

Later that night, she walked alone through the corridors, her footsteps whispering against the stone. Once, this place had been filled with Draco — his smirk, his teasing, his rare softness meant only for her. But somewhere between his new laughter and her silence, she realized she wasn’t in love anymore.

She had loved him fiercely once. But she loved her peace more now.

As she stepped outside under the moonlight, the wind tugged at her robes, cool and cleansing. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t look back toward the Slytherin dungeons.

She just breathed — free.