She streaks through Grimmauld Place.

Hermione’s fingers trembled as they gripped the belt of her dressing gown. She hesitated for just a second longer, her mind racing through every possible risk. This is insane. Utterly mad. What if someone wakes up? What if I get caught?

But she had ****.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, then exhaled slowly. Quick and quiet. That’s all I have to do.

With one final steadying breath, she untied the knot and let the gown slip from her shoulders.

A rush of cool air prickled against her damp skin, making her shudder. She stood there, completely bare, vulnerability washing over her in an instant. Instinctively, she crossed one arm over her chest, shielding her breasts, while her other hand dropped lower to cover herself. Every inch of her felt exposed, the dim hallway somehow far too open despite the shadows.

"Okay," she whispered, barely a breath of sound. "Move."

She darted forward, each step as light as she could make it. The old wooden floors beneath her were unpredictable—some boards creaked, others didn’t. She had to be careful.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she reached the stair landing. She hesitated just long enough to glance upward. The railings were the only cover she had. She would have to crouch, keeping low as she ascended.

Biting her lip, she dropped into a crouch and began her slow climb. Every movement was precise, calculated. One step, then another. Her thighs burned from the awkward position, but she didn’t dare straighten up. The last thing she needed was to be seen from below.

Almost there… Just a little more…

She reached the next stair landing and paused, pressing herself low against the railing to catch her breath. She could feel the thudding of her heart, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly despite her efforts to stay quiet.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps.

Her breath hitched. Someone was coming down the stairs from the next floor up.

Panic surged through her, sharp and immediate. There was no time to think. No time to hide.

Without hesitation, she bolted.

Her bare feet barely made a sound against the floor as she sprinted down the hallway, arms still clutched desperately around herself.

Don’t look back. Just go. Just go.

She had no idea whose footsteps those were—Sirius? Remus? One of the Weasleys? It didn’t matter. If they so much as glanced down the hall at the wrong moment—

Hermione didn’t let herself finish the thought. She just ran.