The first week of classes flew by in a blur of activity, the days packed with new lessons, assignments, and the familiar hustle and bustle of Hogwarts life. The week had begun with a sense of anticipation, each class bringing a mix of excitement and the reality of how much work lay ahead, especially for the seventh years facing their N.E.W.T.s.
Each day had ended with Hermione and her friends retreating to the common room, where they had spent their evenings buried in books, quills scratching away at parchment as they tried to stay on top of the increasing workload. By the end of the week, their bags were heavy with textbooks and scrolls, and the reality of N.E.W.T. year was beginning to settle in.
Before they knew it, Saturday morning arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from the rigors of the week. The Gryffindor group found themselves enjoying a leisurely breakfast in the Great Hall, grateful for the chance to relax. The enchanted ceiling above reflected the clear blue sky outside, dotted with a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across the expanse. Golden sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, casting warm, dappled patterns on the long wooden tables and the stone floor beneath.
The Great Hall was alive with the sounds of clinking cutlery, the murmur of students chatting, and the occasional burst of laughter that echoed off the high, vaulted ceilings. The smell of freshly baked bread, sizzling bacon, and sweet pastries filled the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of pumpkin juice and fresh fruit. The house tables were crowded with students savoring the break from the weekday rush, each group of friends immersed in their own conversations and plans for the weekend.
Hermione sat next to Ginny, absently stirring her porridge as she chatted with her. Across from them, Harry and Ron were digging into their breakfast with their usual enthusiasm. A platter of eggs, bacon, and toast sat between them, gradually emptying as they helped themselves to second and third servings. The light from the windows highlighted the golden brown of the toast and the glistening butter that melted over it.
"So, what do you lot want to get up to today?" Ginny asked, glancing at the boys as she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice, the orange liquid catching the sunlight as it filled her goblet.
Ron looked up, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Harry and I were thinking of playing some Quidditch. We've got to get some practice in before tryouts."
"Definitely," Harry agreed, nodding as he buttered a slice of toast, the knife making a soft scraping sound as it moved over the bread. "I need to be on top of my game if I want to be worthy of being captain this year."
Ginny smiled, her eyes shining with pride for her friend. "You'll do great, Harry. You always do."
Harry gave her a grateful smile before turning to Ron. "What about you? Think you're ready?"
Ron's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, and he shrugged, his fork pausing over his plate. "I still lose focus when I start playing poorly. I just need more practice, I guess. I can't let the nerves get to me."
"You'll get there," Harry said encouragingly. "We'll work on it today. Besides, it's just practice—no pressure."
Ginny turned to Hermione with a grin. "What about us? Fancy watching the boys show off?"
Hermione chuckled, shaking her head slightly as she reached for a piece of fruit from a bowl of ripe apples, oranges, and plums. The colors of the fruit gleamed under the soft light, making them look particularly tempting. "I suppose I can spare some time to watch, but I want to work on homework later. We've got loads of it already."
Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she took a bite of her toast. "Hermione, it's only the first week. You can't be buried in homework all the time."
"I'm not," Hermione protested, though her tone was light. "But it is our N.E.W.T. year, and we can't afford to fall behind. Besides, I'm surprised it's not as bad as our fifth year with O.W.L.s."
Ron groaned, rolling his eyes as he pushed his plate away, the last crumbs of his breakfast scattering across the table. "Hermione, it's Saturday. You've got to give it a rest at some point."
Harry nodded in agreement, finishing his toast and wiping his hands on a napkin. "Yeah, you'll drive yourself mad if you don't take a break now and then. We've got the whole year to worry about N.E.W.T.s."
Hermione smiled, appreciating their concern even as she felt the familiar pull to stay on top of her studies. "Alright, alright. I'll watch the match. But I'm definitely doing some homework afterward."
Ginny grinned, leaning back in her seat as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. "Deal. We'll make sure you don't miss any of Ron's spectacular saves."
Ron pretended to puff up with pride. "That's right. You wouldn't want to miss a future international Quidditch star in action."
Hermione laughed, the lighthearted banter and the warmth of her friends easing the lingering stress from the week. "I wouldn't dream of it."
As they finished their breakfast, the group stood up, the wooden benches scraping softly against the stone floor as they pushed them back. The Great Hall gradually emptied as students drifted off to enjoy their Saturday, the bright sunlight streaming through the windows and casting long, golden beams across the room. The promise of a beautiful day and a bit of friendly competition hung in the air as they headed out toward the Quidditch pitch, ready to make the most of the weekend.
They made their way down to the Quidditch pitch together, the morning air crisp and cool against their faces, carrying the fresh scent of dew-covered grass and the faint aroma of the forest beyond. The path from the castle to the pitch wound through the expansive Hogwarts grounds, flanked by tall, ancient trees whose leaves rustled gently in the light breeze. The sun had risen higher in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape, making the castle's towering spires and the distant mountains glow with a soft, almost magical brilliance.
The group walked at a leisurely pace, the gravel crunching underfoot as they chatted and laughed, their voices mingling with the sounds of the morning. Birds flitted between the trees, their songs adding a cheerful melody to the backdrop of their conversation. The Hogwarts lake, visible through the gaps in the trees, sparkled under the sunlight, its surface calm and reflecting the blue of the sky.
As they approached the Quidditch pitch, the massive stands came into view, their shadows stretching long and dark across the grass. The pitch itself, a vast expanse of green, was pristine and inviting, the white lines freshly marked for the upcoming season. The towering goalposts stood tall at each end of the field, their golden hoops glinting in the sunlight.
Hermione couldn't help but take in the beauty of the scene, feeling a sense of contentment settle over her. It was one of those perfect Hogwarts mornings when everything felt right, when the worries of schoolwork and the future seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the simple joy of being with friends.
"Looks like we're in luck," Harry said with a grin as they reached the edge of the pitch. The stands were completely empty, and the field lay open and untouched, ready for them to use. "Let's make the most of it."
Ron's excitement was palpable as he clapped Harry on the back. "Finally! I've been waiting all week for this."
The girls exchanged amused looks as the boys hurried off toward the locker room. "They're like kids in a candy store when it comes to Quidditch," Ginny remarked with a smile, shaking her head.
"Absolutely," Hermione agreed, a fond smile playing on her lips. "But it's nice to see them so happy."
The girls made their way up to the stands, choosing seats that offered a clear view of the field. The wooden benches were warm from the morning sun, and they settled in comfortably, their gazes following the boys as they disappeared into the locker room.
A few minutes later, Harry and Ron emerged from the locker room, their brooms in hand and the quaffle tucked under Ron's arm. The pitch seemed even more inviting as they stepped onto the field, the green of the grass vibrant under the sunlight, contrasting beautifully with the bright blue of the sky.
From their spot in the stands, Hermione and Ginny watched as Harry and Ron flew across the field, their figures cutting sharp lines through the air. Harry, always the natural on a broomstick, maneuvered effortlessly, practicing dives and sharp turns, his movements fluid and precise. Ron, meanwhile, focused on his goalkeeping skills, positioning himself in front of the hoops and attempting to block the quaffle as Harry launched it toward him.
"They're really determined this year," Ginny observed, her eyes following Harry as he executed a perfect roll in midair. "Harry's been waiting to get back on the team for so long, and Ron… well, he just wants to prove himself."
Hermione nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she watched Ron make a particularly impressive save. "It's important to them," she said. "And they're both really good. I just hope Ron doesn't put too much pressure on himself."
"Yeah, he does have a habit of getting in his own head," Ginny agreed, her tone sympathetic. "But that's why they're practicing. It'll help build his confidence."
As they continued to watch, the conversation between Hermione and Ginny drifted to other topics. They chatted about their classes, the homework that was already piling up, and what they thought of the new teachers. Ginny shared her excitement about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts and her hopes of making the team again, while Hermione talked about her plans to start revising early for their N.E.W.T.s, much to Ginny's amusement.
"You're going to drive yourself mad with all that studying," Ginny teased, nudging Hermione with her elbow. "You need to relax a bit, too."
Hermione smiled, a hint of exasperation in her expression. "I know, I know. But you know how I am. I can't help it."
Ginny laughed, shaking her head. "Well, at least you've got us to drag you away from your books once in a while."
As they chatted, the sun climbed higher in the sky, and the day grew warmer. The stands began to fill with the sounds of the boys' shouts as they practiced, mingling with the steady rhythm of broomsticks cutting through the air. Hermione and Ginny's conversation flowed easily, their laughter and banter punctuating the morning's peaceful atmosphere.
It was one of those rare, perfect days at Hogwarts—a day when the worries of the future could be set aside, if only for a little while, and the simple pleasures of friendship and Quidditch could take center stage.
After the boys played for a while, their energy and enthusiasm evident in every dive and throw, they decided it was time to call it a day. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, and the warmth of the afternoon was beginning to settle in, casting a golden glow over the Quidditch pitch. Harry and Ron, breathless but grinning, flew down to the ground and landed gracefully on the lush, green grass. The pitch, still dewy from the morning, glistened under the sunlight, creating a soft shimmer across the field. They exchanged a few final laughs and words of encouragement before heading back to the locker room to pack up and get changed.
Hermione and Ginny, who had been watching from the stands, stood up and stretched as they saw the boys disappear into the locker room. The wooden benches had grown warm under the midday sun, and the light breeze that had kept them cool earlier was now just a gentle whisper, carrying with it the fresh scent of grass and the faint aroma of wildflowers from the surrounding grounds. The two girls made their way down from the stands, their footsteps soft against the wooden steps, as they chatted and smiled, the tranquility of the day reflected in their easy conversation.
When Harry and Ron emerged from the locker room, freshly changed and still glowing with the adrenaline of their practice, the group began their walk back toward the castle. The path was familiar, winding through the open grounds and past the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The trees here were tall and ancient, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows on the path. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the ground below. The castle loomed ahead, its stone walls bathed in the bright light of the afternoon, the windows glinting like polished gems.
The air was filled with the earthy scent of grass, mingling with the sweet, lingering fragrance of late-blooming flowers that dotted the edges of the path. The Hogwarts lake, visible in the distance through the trees, sparkled under the sunlight, its surface calm and reflecting the deep blue of the sky. Birds flitted among the branches overhead, their songs adding a cheerful melody to the sounds of the students' laughter and conversation.
As they walked, their conversation flowed easily, filled with jokes, stories, and friendly teasing. Ron recounted a particularly impressive save he had made, his tone filled with pride, while Harry described how he was already feeling more confident on his broom after the long break. Ginny chimed in with her own observations, offering tips and teasing her brother about his need to stay focused during the game.
"You were pretty good out there, Ron," Hermione said, smiling at him. "I think all that practice is paying off."
"Thanks, Hermione," Ron replied, grinning. "I just need to keep it up. Can't let Harry down, after all."
"Not a chance," Harry said, nudging Ron with his elbow. "You're going to be brilliant."
The group's laughter echoed pleasantly as they approached the castle's entrance, the grand double doors already propped open to welcome students coming in from the grounds. The cool stone of the entrance hall was a refreshing change from the warmth outside, and the familiar scents of old wood and parchment greeted them as they stepped inside. Sunlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, casting long beams of light across the flagstone floor, which was worn smooth by centuries of students passing through.
They made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, their footsteps echoing slightly in the wide corridors. The hall was bustling with students, the long tables filled with plates of steaming food and goblets of pumpkin juice. The enchanted ceiling above reflected the bright afternoon sky, dotted with the occasional fluffy cloud drifting lazily across the expanse. The smells of roasted meat, fresh bread, and sweet desserts filled the air, making their stomachs rumble with anticipation.
They found their usual spots at the Gryffindor table and settled in, helping themselves to the food and continuing their conversation. The warmth and familiarity of the Great Hall, with its high ceilings, tall windows, and ancient banners hanging from the walls, made the meal all the more enjoyable. The clatter of cutlery, the hum of voices, and the occasional burst of laughter created a lively, yet comforting atmosphere, a reminder of the shared experiences that made Hogwarts feel like home.
After lunch, Hermione felt the familiar tug of responsibility. She had managed to put off her homework all morning, but now that the day was moving along, she knew it was time to get to work. As they finished their meal and stood up to leave, Hermione turned to her friends, her expression determined.
"I think I'm going to head to the library," Hermione announced, grabbing her bag. The library, with its towering shelves of books and quiet, studious atmosphere, was calling to her. "I've put off my homework long enough, and there's so much to do."
Ron groaned dramatically, shaking his head as they walked out of the Great Hall. The afternoon light filled the corridors, casting a warm, golden hue over everything. "Hermione, it's the weekend! Can't you let yourself have just one day off?"
"Yeah," Ginny agreed, giving her a teasing look as they passed by a window overlooking the sun-drenched grounds. "You don't have to bury yourself in books all the time."
Harry smiled, his tone gentle but playful. "We're not even a full week into the term, and you're already thinking about exams."
Hermione rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile at their teasing. "You all know how important this year is. We have our N.E.W.T.s, and there's just so much to study. I need to make sure I'm fully prepared if I want to get good grades on the exams."
Ginny gave her a sympathetic pat on the back as they approached the entrance to the library, the large wooden doors standing tall and imposing. "We know, Hermione. But don't forget to enjoy yourself a little too. You deserve it."
"I'll try," Hermione promised, though the determined glint in her eye made it clear she was already thinking about the assignments waiting for her. The thought of the quiet, sunlit library, with its rows of neatly organized books and the soft scratch of quills on parchment, was more appealing than anything else at the moment.
"We'll see you later, then," Harry said, giving her an encouraging smile as they passed by a portrait of a stern-looking wizard who gave them a nod. "Don't work too hard."
With a wave, Hermione headed off into the library, the heavy doors creaking slightly as they closed behind her. The air inside was cool and still, filled with the faint scent of old books and ink—a scent that always brought her a sense of comfort and focus. The tall windows lining the walls allowed streams of afternoon light to filter in, casting soft, golden beams across the rows of bookshelves. The dust motes danced in the light, and the polished wooden tables gleamed with a warm, inviting glow.
As she walked through the quiet aisles, the familiar atmosphere of the library wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional soft rustle of pages being turned and the distant tap of quills on parchment. This was Hermione's sanctuary, a place where her thoughts could settle and her mind could quickly focus on the tasks ahead. The smell of parchment, the sight of neatly arranged books, and the gentle hush of the space made it the perfect environment for her to immerse herself in her studies.
Hermione made her way to her favorite spot near a window—a secluded table tucked away from the main traffic of students. The window overlooked the grounds, offering a serene view of the rolling hills and the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the trees now tinged with the golden hues of late afternoon. The light that streamed through the window bathed her workspace in a soft glow, creating a tranquil setting that made it easy for her to concentrate.
She carefully spread out her parchment and arranged her textbooks in a neat, methodical fashion, ready to dive into her work. With a sense of calm settling over her, Hermione dipped her quill into the inkpot and began to write, her thoughts quickly aligning with the task at hand. The quill glided smoothly over the parchment as she meticulously composed her essay for Professor Sprout on the Venomous Tentacula, a dangerous yet fascinating plant.
Time seemed to pass almost unnoticed as Hermione worked diligently, her focus unbroken by the quiet activities of the other students around her. She took the occasional pause to consult one of her textbooks or to reread a particularly dense passage before continuing with her writing. The library remained a peaceful haven, the atmosphere soothing and conducive to deep concentration.
After a few hours, Hermione sat back and examined her work. She had completed a foot and a half of her essay, carefully detailing the properties, dangers, and cultivation techniques of the Venomous Tentacula. Satisfied with her progress, she allowed herself a small smile. The essay had required a great deal of concentration and research, but she felt confident that she had captured the key points that Professor Sprout would expect.
Hermione stretched her arms above her head, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. The light outside had shifted, the sun now beginning its slow descent toward the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the landscape. The library, too, had taken on a more subdued atmosphere, the light softer and the shadows longer, as students quietly wrapped up their studies for the day.
Content with her work, Hermione gathered her things, carefully placing her completed essay in her bag. The sense of accomplishment she felt was accompanied by the comforting knowledge that she had made good use of her time. As she stood and made her way to the library doors, the familiar creak of the hinges echoed softly in the stillness, and she stepped out into the corridor, ready to rejoin her friends and enjoy the rest of the evening.
The corridor was eerily silent as Hermione made her way toward Gryffindor Tower, her footsteps echoing faintly against the cold stone floor. The soft glow of the torches cast flickering shadows along the walls, but otherwise, the castle seemed almost deserted. She could've sworn it wasn't that late, yet the empty and silent corridor begged to differ. The usual bustling atmosphere of students moving through the halls had vanished, leaving her in an unexpected solitude.
As she neared the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, a faint noise behind her caught her attention—the soft shuffle of fabric. Her breath caught, and she turned quickly, her heart giving a small leap. Down the corridor, some distance away, she spotted Professor Lupin, straightening his suit jacket. He moved with a casual grace, adjusting his collar as though he'd just appeared out of nowhere.
But that didn't make sense. Hermione was certain she had been the only one in the corridor moments ago, and there weren't any secret passages around here that she was aware of.
Curiosity piqued, Hermione couldn't help but stare. There was something about Professor Lupin that had always struck her—something more than just his intelligence and kindness. Tonight, as the flickering light of the torches illuminated his features, Hermione noticed his sharp jawline and the way his sandy hair fell slightly over his forehead. He looked composed, yet there was a ruggedness about him, as if his calm exterior masked something deeper.
Without realizing it, she found herself lingering on the thought that he was... undeniably attractive.
Before she could avert her gaze, Lupin's sharp yet kind eyes lifted and met hers. A warm, gentle smile spread across his face as he recognized her, and he began walking toward her, his footsteps soft against the stone. Hermione felt her cheeks warm slightly—she hoped he hadn't caught her staring.
"Hermione," he greeted her, his voice calm and slightly amused. "What are you doing wandering the corridors at this hour?"
She blinked, breaking out of her reverie. "Oh, Professor Lupin! I—I was just coming back from the library," she stammered slightly, still recovering from her surprise. "I had some homework to finish, and I lost track of time."
Lupin nodded, his eyes gleaming with understanding. As he adjusted the collar of his jacket again, Hermione couldn't help but notice how well he carried himself—there was a quiet strength to him. "Ah, I see. N.E.W.T. year—always a busy time," he said, his voice kind and encouraging, the deep timbre of it sending a tiny flutter through her. "But you know, Hermione, your exams aren't all that matters."
Hermione tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes, though her mind momentarily wandered to how well Lupin looked in his suit, the way it subtly accentuated his lean frame. "What do you mean, Professor?"
Lupin smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling warmly. "I just mean that this is your last year at Hogwarts. It's important to study, of course, but don't forget to enjoy it too. You've only got one final year here—there's more to school than just exams and essays."
His smile, so kind and thoughtful, caused a flicker of warmth in Hermione's chest. There was something about his demeanor, the gentle way he spoke, that made her want to listen. It was more than just respect for his wisdom—there was a quiet charm about him that left her momentarily tongue-tied.
"I know," she admitted softly, realizing how easily he seemed to understand her. "It's just... I want to do well. I need to be prepared."
Lupin's smile softened further, his gaze filled with a mixture of understanding and reassurance. "And you will, Hermione. You've always been one of the most dedicated students here. But don't let the pressure of success keep you from experiencing everything else. Your memories of Hogwarts will be made up of more than just test scores."
Hermione felt her face flush slightly, not just from the embarrassment of how much she focused on her studies, but from the way he spoke to her—like he truly saw her. She nodded slowly, his words resonating deeply. "I'll try to keep that in mind, Professor," she said quietly, her heart fluttering as she realized how much she valued his approval.
"Good," he said, his voice as warm as ever. He glanced toward the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure Gryffindor Tower is calling your name."
As he spoke, Hermione couldn't help but notice how his eyes softened when he looked at her, his expression always so gentle. The thought crossed her mind again—how he was not only kind but incredibly attractive in a way she hadn't fully acknowledged until now.
"Thank you, Professor Lupin. I'll see you in class," she managed, offering a small smile.
Lupin gave her a nod and another reassuring smile before turning to continue down the corridor. As Hermione watched him walk away, she found herself captivated by his presence, the way he seemed to move effortlessly, his figure fading into the flickering torchlight. There was something about him—something that left her both comforted and slightly flustered.
Turning back to the Fat Lady's portrait, Hermione whispered the password and stepped inside. The Gryffindor common room greeted her with its familiar, cozy warmth. The fire in the hearth had dwindled to embers, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room, while the rich tapestries lining the walls absorbed the quiet, adding to the comforting stillness. Outside the large, arched windows, the night sky stretched endlessly, dotted with stars. The moon, still waxing, hung low in the sky, its light faint but growing brighter each evening.
The room was empty by now, just as she had expected. A few stray books were left scattered on the cushioned armchairs, and the last remnants of the evening fire crackled faintly. Harry and Ron had long since turned in; they had learned by now that when Hermione disappeared into the library after dinner, it was best to bid her goodnight in advance.
The spiral staircase to the girls' dormitory creaked softly as she ascended, the familiar sound blending with the low hum of the night. As she entered the dormitory, a soft, silvery light shone through the large windows, bathing the room in a gentle glow. The other girls were already asleep, their curtains drawn around their four-poster beds. Outside, the moonlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, creating delicate patterns on the floor.
Hermione moved quietly, slipping into her nightclothes, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound in the otherwise still room. The peaceful atmosphere should have made her feel at ease, but her mind was anything but calm. She couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with Professor Lupin.
Sliding into her own bed, she pulled the heavy curtains around her for privacy. The soft, velvety fabric muffled the outside world, cocooning her in warmth and solitude, but inside her mind, thoughts raced. As she stared up at the canopy above, the silvery moonlight slipped through a small gap in the curtains, casting a faint glow over her bed. Hermione turned onto her side, watching the faint light shift, her mind still buzzing with thoughts of Lupin.
She couldn't shake the memory of seeing him in the corridor. He had looked... different. How had she not noticed how attractive he was before? The realization caught her off-guard, as though a curtain had been pulled back on something she hadn't allowed herself to see. His sandy hair, slightly tousled, the gentle way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and that quiet confidence in his movements—it all seemed to stand out to her now, in ways it hadn't before.
And yet, the mystery of his sudden appearance lingered. What had he been doing behind her? She had been sure the corridor was empty. There were no secret passages in that area, not according to the Marauder's Map. She knew Hogwarts well, every nook and cranny it seemed, and none of the hidden pathways passed through that part of the castle.
But there he was, straightening his suit as if he had simply materialized. The thought was puzzling, and the more Hermione turned it over in her mind, the more intrigued she became. Something didn't quite add up, and while Lupin's presence had been reassuring, she couldn't ignore the strangeness of it all.
She stared at the way the moonlight illuminated the curtains, her thoughts wandering once again to Lupin. He had been so... handsome, hadn't he? It wasn't just his looks—it was the way he spoke, the way he seemed to understand her so easily. The soft timbre of his voice when he reassured her about her studies, the gentle humor in his eyes—it all lingered in her mind. She felt a slight blush rise in her cheeks at the thought.
What was he doing in that corridor? The question repeated in her head. There was something about his presence, something deeper she hadn't quite grasped. She found herself wanting to know more—not just about his sudden appearance, but about him. Who he really was, beyond the kind professor.
Hermione sighed softly, shifting in her bed as she tried to will herself to sleep. The gentle light of the moon was comforting, casting its pale glow over the grounds and the castle. Soon, it would be full, bathing the entire school in its silver brilliance. But tonight, the soft glow was a subtle reminder of something larger at play, something she couldn't quite see yet.
Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy, and despite her racing thoughts, sleep began to creep in. Yet, even as she drifted off, the image of Lupin's warm smile and his mysterious presence in that empty corridor lingered, as if he were a puzzle she was just beginning to piece together.