Hermione stepped cautiously into the shadowed corridor, the dim light casting eerie shapes along the walls. Ingne sat slumped against the cold stone floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her head resting on them. She barely stirred as Hermione approached.

"Hey," Hermione said softly.

Ingne slowly lifted her head, revealing her face—dark straight hair falling to her shoulders, her caramel complexion pale under the flickering torchlight. Her eyes locked onto Hermione's, filled with anger and hurt.

NOTE: IMAGINE INGNE AS HALLE BAILEY.

"Oh! The great Granger witch," Ingne spat bitterly. "Weren't you and your friends the reason all of this happened in the first place? Why are you here now?"

Hermione winced at the accusation, but her voice remained steady. "I know your loss is immeasurable, Ingne. But I've lost someone too. Someone close to me."

Ingne shot up from the ground, standing just a few feet away from Hermione. "So? Is that supposed to make me less sad?" Her voice trembled with fury, her eyes wild.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Hogwarts failed. I know. But what you did back there, Ingne, wasn't appropriate. Professor Dumbledore and the others always try their best to protect us."

Ingne scoffed, "So you didn't like that I flashed my tits."

Hermione, already irritated, replied, "Yes. That."

A sly, rebellious grin spread across Ingne's face as she lifted her shirt again, exposing her bare chest with 'Hogwarts Sucks' still scrawled in angry red paint across her brown breasts. "There. I did it again. What the fuck are you gonna do, huh?"

Hermione's patience thinned, but she kept her voice even. "I was trying to help you."

Ingne's eyes darkened with rage. "Fuck you, bitch. Your help isn't gonna bring my brother back."

With that, she stormed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. Hermione stood frozen for a moment, feeling stupid and out of place. Ginny still wasn't speaking to her. Now, after trying to help a stranger, she had only made things worse.

But as she stood alone in the dim light, another thought crept into her mind, something she shouldn't be thinking about at all. What she had assumed to be modest-sized breasts in the Great Hall were, in fact, much larger up close—larger than her own. Hermione quickly shook the thought away, feeling even more ridiculous.

A voice called from the other end of the corridor, "Hermione."

Hermione turned and saw Ginny standing there. She walked over, surprised to be approached after the silence between them.

Ginny's expression was awkward, the bitterness still lingering between them. "What were you doing over there?"

Hermione shook her head, hesitant, "Oh, um, nothing… but are you talking to me now?"

Ginny sighed, "I know it's a little too late, but… I feel dumb for staying mad at you."

Hermione reached out, resting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Neither dumb nor late."

Ginny smiled, though it still held a trace of awkwardness. "I thought it'd take longer to apologize."

Hermione returned the smile with a quiet sigh of relief. "I know things got weird between us, but… we're still friends."

Ginny's gaze softened. "I'm trying not to think about you in that way anymore."

Hermione felt a pang of helplessness, knowing she couldn't return Ginny's feelings like that. But she understood how hard it was for Ginny.

Ginny continued, "But it'll work out. Do you wanna put your name in the goblet?"

Hermione, relieved to feel the warmth of their friendship again, nodded with a smile. "Sure."

Hermione and Ginny entered the grand entrance hall. They glanced around, taking in the sight of several familiar faces exiting the hall, each girl marked by excitement.

Padma and Parvati Patil moved in tandem, their expressions animated as they whispered to each other.

Cho Chang walked just behind them, her gaze thoughtful, while Katie Bell's laughter echoed through the hall.

Luna Lovegood trailed behind, her dreamy gaze fixed somewhere far away, "Ginny and Hermione, the goblet awaits you."

Ginny, standing beside Hermione, noticed Pansy Parkinson's haughty stride, flanked by her usual entourage. Lavender Brown was with them too.

Astoria Greengrass moved gracefully, a serene confidence radiating from her, while Eloise Midgen's eyes sparkled with determination. Angelina Johnson, always the sporty one, seemed to be in deep discussion with her friends