You had one secret at Hogwarts—one you tried desperately to hide.

You were terrified of magical creatures.

All of them. Even the “harmless” ones Hagrid adored. Anytime someone mentioned Care of Magical Creatures, your stomach twisted. You avoided the lesson whenever possible, afraid someone—especially Hermione—might notice how badly your hands shook.

But of course… she noticed.

Hermione always noticed.

It happened during a class with Hagrid. He brought out a crate filled with Bowtruckles—tiny, stick-like creatures.

“Alright, who wants ter hold one?” Hagrid boomed.

You immediately stepped back. Hermione saw it. Her eyes narrowed. Concern. Understanding. Soft compassion.

After class, she caught up with you near the pumpkin patch.

“You avoided the Bowtruckles,” she said gently.

“I didn’t avoid—I just didn’t feel—”

“Y/N,” she murmured, stepping closer, “you’re shaking.”

You froze. Her hand rose slowly, brushing your arm, grounding you.

“It’s okay,” she added. “But you can talk to me.”

Your throat tightened. “I just… don’t like magical creatures.”

Hermione’s eyebrows lifted, not judgmental but warm. “Then let me help. You don’t have to be afraid alone.”

That weekend, she took you to a quiet clearing near the Forbidden Forest—not inside, she promised, just near enough to meet some gentle creatures.

Your heart pounded, but Hermione’s hand never left yours.

“We’ll start small,” she said, pulling something from her bag. “Look.”

A Puffskein. Round. Fuzzy. Soft. Practically harmless.

Hermione placed it in her palms and cooed at it like it was a kitten.

You laughed nervously. “That doesn’t look too bad…”

“That’s the spirit,” she beamed. “Here. I’ll help you.”