Hermione

The salty wind whipped through Hermione's hair as she stood at the cliff's edge, the white and red of her dress billowing like the sails of a distant ship. Her fingers brushed the golden necklace at her throat, a gift from her mother, now a bittersweet reminder of the family torn apart by war. Every day, she came to this spot, hoping against hope to see her father's ship crest the horizon and bring her world back to order. But today, the familiar solitude was broken. A figure emerged from the mist, a stranger with an air of mystery that sent a shiver down her spine. 'What are you doing here?' she called out, her voice barely audible over the roar of the waves. 'You know you shouldn’t be here. If Grandfather finds out, it will mean death.' Yet, even as she spoke the words, she felt an inexplicable pull towards the enigmatic figure. In that moment, Hermione's life teetered on the brink of the unknown, caught between the safety of the familiar and the thrill of the forbidden.