The library was still and silent, the only sound the faint rustle of parchment as Iris absently smoothed the edges of a book she had no intention of reading. She sat in the farthest corner of the Ravenclaw library, a secluded alcove bathed in cool, silvery moonlight streaming through the tall windows. The air was crisp with the scent of old books and lingering enchantments, but Iris’s heart raced in sharp contrast to the calm atmosphere.

Her long jet-black hair, usually neat and secure, was now loose within the fishtail braid, strands framing her pale face in a way that made her feel exposed—vulnerable. She glanced at the clock above the arched doorway; it was a few minutes past midnight.

Would you come? The question churned in her mind, equal parts hope and dread. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her Ravenclaw robes, a telltale sign of nerves she couldn’t quite suppress. Normally composed and measured, Iris felt as if she had stepped into unfamiliar territory, unsure of the rules or the outcome.

The book she had brought sat open on the table in front of her, pages turned to a random chapter on advanced Arithmancy. It was a prop—a distraction for anyone who might stumble upon her. She hadn't read a single word. Instead, her piercing blue eyes kept darting to the shadowed doorway, searching for any sign of movement.

The quiet hum of the enchanted library only heightened the anticipation. She tried to focus on her breathing, counting each inhale and exhale to keep her nerves in check. But no amount of logical reasoning could calm the fluttering in her chest. She was too used to overthinking, to second-guessing her emotions.

Yet tonight, she had dared to be bold. She had written the letter, poured her feelings onto the parchment in careful, veiled prose. She had signed her name and sent it, knowing there was no undoing it. And now she waited, hoping that the courage she had mustered would not be met with silence.