Moodboard for something in the works, mostly working off vibes for now. With @bettertoflee
Hermione began to inch away, sliding down the bookcase until she reached the aisle. She tightened her hold on her bag. “As fun as that sounds,” she said, halfheartedly, “I think I’ll be going.”
“Don’t I at least get one?” Cormac asked, his tone far too flirty for her liking.
The introduction of a new voice made Hermione spin around, nearly dropping her things, and very nearly knocking a nearby candle from its chamberstick.
She reached out and righted the candle before it had the chance to fall and catch. The edge of her finger caught the flame and as she pushed the chamberstick back, away from the edge of the table, she put the tip of her finger between her lips. When she looked up, Harry was there, eyes locked on her.
“All good?” he asked. Hermione knew to Cormac’s ears it would be in question to the minor burn, but that in reality, his question went much further.
“Yeah,” she said, voice quiet. “Yes. All good.”
“Oh, hey Potter. Hermione was just telling me who’s taking her to Slughorn’s party.”
“I wasn’t,” she clarified.
“Right,” Cormac said, raising his eyebrows mockingly. “She was going to let me guess who’s taking her.”
Harry glanced between them and Hermione struggled to hide her horror at the situation. She willed herself to say something, anything, but her mouth had gone suddenly dry.
Harry stepped closer and slid his fingers beneath the strap of her bag, the edge of his forefinger just barely grazing the skin of her neck as he took it from her shoulder. “That’d be me,” he said, looking to Cormac.
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