Y/N's brow arched in a gesture of skepticism, her arms instinctively crossing as she stood there, an attentive audience to the trio's explanation. The words of Harry, Ron, and Hermione flowed into her ears, but her expression remained slightly incredulous.

"Snape. Really?" Her words were delivered with a deadpan precision, as if she needed more convincing to accept such a bold assertion. Harry's persistent nodding met her remark, his determination unwavering as he attempted to make his case. Y/N's skepticism lingered, like a shadow that cast doubt upon the claim that Snape was responsible for the curse on Harry's broom.

"Yeah, Y/N, you must've noticed it too. Remember when we faced that Troll? Snape's leg was bleeding afterward, and he was limping earlier today. It's clear he got bitten trying to sneak past that three-headed dog!" Harry's insistence carried the fervor of someone passionately advocating for a point they believed in. Y/N's brows furrowed slightly, her expression revealing a mixture of consideration and contemplation.

A thoughtful silence enveloped the room, Y/N's gaze focused as she weighed the possibilities. "But he's a professor, Harry," she interjected, her voice tempered with a rational approach.

 "Perhaps he was merely investigating the situation? It stands to reason that he would be aware of the circumstances surrounding the three-headed dog," she added, her words spoken with a blend of logic and curiosity.

Hermione's voice chimed in, offering her agreement. "Harry's reasoning does hold some merit, Crimson."

Y/N let out a soft sigh, her expression a blend of resignation and amusement. "Fine, fine," she conceded, her tone laced with a hint of playful exasperation. "If you three are so certain, then I'll accept the Snape theory for now," she stated, her words containing a light-hearted undertone.

Pushing herself up from her seat, Y/N announced her intent to depart. "Well, I'm heading back to my dorm." Her deadpan delivery implied that she had reached her limit on the subject, ready to leave the conversation behind.

Hermione's voice cut through the air, a request that shifted Y/N's trajectory. "Actually, Y/N, could you... stay?" The unexpected question hung in the air, a curiosity that beckoned Y/N to pause.

Her eyebrows furrowed in surprise, Y/N couldn't help but ask, "Why?"

Hermione's words held a mysterious allure, a hint of something beneath the surface. "I thought it might be nice to have an early chat, you know, about a few things." Her explanation was enigmatic, a puzzle that Y/N found herself drawn to decipher.

Y/N's lips parted slightly, her gaze narrowing as she regarded Hermione. The invitation held an intriguing quality, a promise of conversation that seemed to harbor more than met the eye. As her curiosity flared, Y/N's thoughts swirled with questions, each one urging her to remain and delve into the mysteries Hermione hinted at.

"Oh, actually, me and Ron have some unfinished business. We'll catch up with you two later," Harry's voice cut through the conversation, a sudden declaration that left Ron looking thoroughly perplexed.

"We do?" Ron mumbled, his confusion palpable in his voice. Harry's stern glare was enough to silence further protest, and with a resigned sigh, Ron allowed himself to be dragged away, casting a bewildered look over his shoulder.

As the two boys made their hasty exit, the Common Room seemed to take on a newfound stillness. Y/N's fingers toyed idly with the strings of her sweatpants, her gaze momentarily cast downward in contemplation. Eventually, her gaze lifted, meeting the curious eyes of Hermione Granger—a moment that sent an unexpected jolt through Y/N's heart.

Y/N quickly averted her gaze, her cheeks dusted with a faint flush. The rhythmic movement of her eyes—looking down, then up, then everywhere but back into Hermione's gaze—betrayed a mixture of shyness and an underlying awareness of the charged atmosphere between them.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Hermione was caught in a similar dance of avoiding direct eye contact, her heart racing in sync with the heartbeat of the room. The space between them seemed to hum with unspoken words and the lingering weight of their connection.

Breaking the fragile silence, Hermione's voice sounded, a gentle disruption to the charged moment. 

"I found something earlier today," she began, her tone tentative yet curious. Y/N's attention snapped back to Hermione, her intrigue sparking like a flicker of fire in her eyes.

"What did you find?" Y/N inquired, her interest evident in her voice as she leaned slightly closer.

Hermione's words were a whisper, a confidential sharing of a secret. "I was in the library, and this little bird flew in and landed on my book," she admitted, revealing the small red-feathered creature cupped in her palm.

Y/N's lips curled into an amused smile, her voice carrying a note of lightness. "Have you been holding onto that  bird this whole time?" Her chuckle danced on the edges of her words, while Hermione's eye-roll communicated the playful annoyance she felt at being questioned.

"No, I just went back to my room," Hermione replied, her voice a soft murmur. "I was thinking... maybe you could look after it for a while? I'm worried Crookshanks might try to make a snack out of it."

Y/N's eyebrow arched in mock incredulity. "So, you want me to cat-sit for your bird? Why not just let it go from whence it came?"

Hermione's response was straightforward, her words carrying an unusual intensity. "I don't want to let it go."

Y/N's playful smile evolved into a bemused expression. "Well, that's... rather unusual."

Hermione's eyes rolled in exasperation, but her hand extended, offering the bird to Y/N. Y/N's fingers brushed the soft feathers gently, a touch of tenderness in her movements. 

"You know, I'd love to help, but I also have a cat, Kipper. And he might see this little fellow as an appetizer," Y/N explained with a light chuckle, shaking her head.

Hermione's pout held a touch of genuine disappointment as she looked towards Y/N, seeking validation for her impulse to keep the bird close. 

"Really?" Her voice was marked by a hint of reluctance, an unspoken plea for understanding.

Y/N's response was measured and reassuring, a calm voice of reason amidst Hermione's wavering emotions. "I'm certain it will be alright, Granger," she affirmed, her gaze steady and comforting. 

"Think about it, if this little creature has thrived in the wild, it might fare better out there than in your dorm. You're doing it a kindness by setting it free."

Hermione's sigh was a mixture of resignation and acquiescence, a subtle acknowledgement that Y/N's words held merit. Y/N's soft voice, laden with understanding, spoke of a connection that ran deeper than a mere conversation. 

"Come on," she continued gently, the words whispered like a soothing melody. 

"I'll be right there with you."

Pushing herself up from the couch, Y/N extended her hand towards Hermione. Their fingers intertwined, a physical bridge between them as they embarked on this shared journey. Together, they walked towards a window that framed the outside world, their footsteps in unison, their presence a testament to the solidarity they offered each other.

With practiced ease, Y/N opened the window, the cold November night breeze infiltrating the room. She held the bird in her palm, her fingers brushing against Hermione's as she handed it over. Their eyes met in a moment of unspoken understanding, a shared sentiment that transcended words.

A playful comment slipped from Y/N's lips, a gentle tease that broke the tension that had settled between them. "I believe it just left a 'parting gift' on me. So, you might want to make this quick."

Hermione's laughter rang in the air, a musical sound that carried a hint of relief. She was drawn back to the moment by Y/N's actions—a subtle but decisive movement as Y/N's arms wrapped around her waist from behind. Hermione felt the warmth of Y/N's presence enveloping her, the feeling both comforting and electrifying.

Y/N's chin rested on the back of Hermione's shoulder, the proximity igniting a spark of awareness between them. A shiver traced Hermione's spine as Y/N's breath grazed her ear, their connection deepening in the stillness of the night. The slight grogginess in Y/N's voice hinted at the intimacy of their interaction, the kind that flourished in the quiet hours when the world was asleep.

Hermione's voice wavered, her words stumbling as she tried to regain her composure. The bird, once the focal point, had now faded into the background of their shared space. 

"I... I was thinking about... maybe I should feed it first?"

The words were a ramble, a desperate attempt to keep the conversation focused on something other than the growing intimacy between them. But Y/N's response was a deliberate pivot, a whisper against Hermione's ear that caused her breath to hitch and her heart to race. 

"Don't worry about the bird," Y/N breathed, the words imbued with an undercurrent of promise. "I won't let go of you let go."

Hermione's world narrowed to the sensation of Y/N's touch and the soft murmur of her voice. The bird had become a mere symbol, an afterthought in comparison to the burgeoning connection between them.

With a hesitant yet resolute gesture, Hermione's hands slowly lifted, cupping the delicate form of the bird. The creature responded to her touch, its wings beginning to flutter in anticipation of the impending freedom. 

In a sudden burst of movement, it twirled around midair, a fleeting dance that almost seemed like a final salute—a silent farewell. And then, with a graceful gracefulness, it propelled itself into the air, wings beating against the darkness, carrying it away into the night sky.

Y/N's embrace around Hermione's waist lingered, a touch that spoke volumes without uttering a word. The air held a palpable tension, an unspoken sentiment that neither of them dared to voice aloud. It was as if Y/N's grasp was a bridge connecting the worlds of comfort and the unknown, a bridge that they both found themselves hesitating to cross.

The moment stretched on, a suspended pause in which the echo of the bird's departure seemed to reverberate. Eventually, Y/N withdrew her arms, the action punctuated by a subtle flush that graced her cheeks. As their eyes met, a spark of shared understanding passed between them—a moment when words weren't necessary to convey what was felt.

Y/N's voice broke the silence, laced with a playful tone that eased the lingering intensity of the moment. "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Her words were accompanied by a knowing glint in her eyes, as if she had anticipated Hermione's hesitation. A chuckle bubbled from Hermione's lips, her eyes rolling in mock exasperation as she playfully nudged Y/N's shoulder.

The gentle punch served as a friendly reminder of their dynamic, the camaraderie that defined their interactions. Hermione's footsteps carried her past Y/N, a subtle brush of connection that didn't go unnoticed. As Hermione moved, her words lingered in the air, a quiet farewell that held an undercurrent of fondness.

"Good night, Crimson."

Y/N's response was a soft echo, a warm reassurance that mirrored the sentiment exchanged between them. "Good night."

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N : the bird is a metaphor