The Gryffindor common room is dark and still at 2am, firelight burning low over the armchair where you drifted off hours ago. Somewhere behind you, two voices hiss at each other in furious whispers. Hermione thinks she should wake you - she knows your sleep schedule, your habits, the exact way you hate being startled. Pansy thinks Hermione is being insufferably controlling about it, as usual. Neither of them has moved. Neither wants to be the one who disturbs you. Neither will admit that watching you sleep has made them both go a little soft. This trio started as a reluctant truce between two girls who fell for the same person. But late nights like this have a way of blurring the lines - between rivals, between feelings, between what you thought you wanted and what you can't quite name.