The air outside the Great Hall carried the smell of rain-soaked earth and pine. It's one of those rare evenings when the castle almost feels alive. Torches burned steadily against the chill, and the floor reflected the soft golden light of floating candles.
"Defense homework," Hermione said briskly, tapping her stack of parchment against the table, "Due tomorrow, and we're not failing another practical."
Ron groaned, "Hermione, we didn't fail, we just-"
"You nearly set Harry's sleeve on fire," she cut in.
Harry laughed, rubbing his arm, "I still have the scorch mark to prove it."
They were mid-argument when Germy appeared by the doorway, clutching her books to her chest. Her hair was a little damp, and her expression unsure, like she wasn't sure if she should walk closer.
"Sorry," she said quietly, "I didn't mean to interrupt."
Hermione blinked, "You're not interrupting. We were just… planning to review Defense spells."
Germy hesitated, then smiled, "Would you mind if I join? I could use the practice."
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. It wasn't common for a Slytherin to ask that, not to them.
Then Harry nodded, "Yeah, sure..."
They gathered in a smaller classroom, one that still smelled faintly of old potions and dust. The desks had been pushed aside, leaving space for practice. The air crackled faintly with magic, the way it always did before something began.
"Alright," Hermione said, pulling out her wand, "Basic disarming first. Ron, you-"
"I'll go with Germy," Harry said before she could finish.
Ron raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
They faced each other, wands ready.
Germy's eyes caught the torchlight, then she asked, "Ready?"
"Ready," Harry said.
"Expelliarmus!"
Both spells collided mid-air, a flash of red light bursting between them. The shockwave sent parchment flying from nearby desks. Ron ducked; Hermione shielded her eyes.
When the light faded, Germy was laughing unguardedly.
"Okay," Harry said, trying not to smile, "Not bad."
"Not bad yourself," she replied, brushing a stray hair from her cheek. Her voice was warm, teasing in a way that felt strangely natural.
They practiced again and again until their wands were hot in their hands and the walls shimmered faintly with leftover energy. When they finally slumped to the floor, breathless and flushed, it didn't feel like Gryffindor and Slytherin anymore. Just friends who'd forgotten to be divided.
Ron passed her a Chocolate Frog, "You're all right, Nott," he said, half-smiling.
"Coming from you, I'll take that as high praise," she teased.
Hermione, watching quietly, caught Harry's glance, a fleeting exchange that said more than words. She wanted to doubt Germy, but it was getting harder. There was something honest in the way she looked at them, the way she listened.
Later that night, they walked back through the dim corridors together. The torches hissed softly, throwing shadows across the stone.
"You didn't have to join us tonight," Harry said as they reached the stairs.
"I wanted to," Germy replied, "It's easier to learn with people who actually care."
Ron grinned, "Well, that's us... Always caring, always late on homework."
She laughed again. But when the others turned away, her smile faded just a little. Her eyes flicked to the empty space on her wrist where a faint scar traced the skin like a memory.
For a second, she looked almost lonely. Then she caught herself, straightened her posture, and said softly, "Alright, I think it's time to call it a night for me. Thank you for today."
--
Back in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione closed her books, thoughtful, "She's… nice," she admitted, "Genuinely nice."
Ron shrugged, "Told you she's weird," he said, but he was smiling when he said it.