The candlelight danced across the walls of the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory in gentle hues of pink and gold, charmed to flicker with a festive Valentine glow. Most of the other girls had fallen asleep or were still whispering behind their bed curtains, but in one corner of the cozy room, Dora and Iris lay side by side on their beds, the chatter between them soft and conspiratorial.
"You survived breakfast better than I did," Iris said, propping her chin on her hand as she looked at Dora, who was lazily toying with a lock of hair that was currently streaked lavender and cream.
"I barely made it," Dora grinned. "That boy from Ravenclaw nearly spilled pumpkin juice on you trying to give you that ridiculous chocolate frog bouquet."
"I still don't know if it was a gift or an assassination attempt," Iris deadpanned.
Dora laughed. "You were the queen of the hall today. I think half of Hogwarts had a crush on you."
Iris made a strangled groaning sound and flopped back into her pillow. "Let me never hear the word 'sonnet' again."
They both giggled, the warmth of shared friendship melting the leftover awkwardness of a chaotic day. The candlelight dimmed slightly, matching the softening atmosphere.
After a moment, Iris turned her head toward Dora with a knowing look. "So. You and Hadrian. That room."
Dora blinked, face flushing a faint pink that her hair immediately copied. "What about it?"
"You went in. Don't play innocent."
Dora mumbled something incoherent into her pillow.
Iris smirked. "You saw him, didn't you?"
Dora peeked out with narrowed eyes. "That room is unfair. It's sneaky. And rude."
"Which means yes," Iris said, victorious. "Did he know?"
"I don't think he had to. He looked like he knew exactly who he was going to see the moment we opened the door."
"That's sweet."
"It's… confusing."
Iris rolled onto her back, kicking her feet a little in the air. "What's so confusing about it?"
Dora didn't answer immediately. Her gaze drifted up to the ceiling, where heart-shaped charms faded slowly into clouds and stars. She sighed.
"I mean… aren't we a bit too young for this kind of thing?" she said at last, her voice soft and unsure. "All these feelings, crushes, enchanted rooms showing people's faces… It's too much. We're eleven."
Iris blinked and tilted her head.
"Maybe," she said slowly. "But people feel what they feel, no matter their age. I don't think there's a magic number where everything starts making sense."
"I guess," Dora mumbled. "But it feels like we're standing at the edge of something really big and confusing. Like it could be amazing… or it could go horribly wrong."
"It probably will be both," Iris said cheerfully. "That's growing up, isn't it?"
Dora snorted. "You sound like one of those Gryffindor poets."
"Maybe I'll send you a sonnet next Valentine's."
"Please don't."
They both giggled again and then fell into a comfortable silence.
"Still," Dora added softly, "I'm glad it was him."
Iris didn't press her further. She just smiled, rolled onto her side, and flicked her wand lazily to dim the candlelight a bit more.
"I think he's glad too."
Outside, the castle was quiet, the last ripples of Valentine's Day fading into the gentle hush of the evening. And in that warm dormitory room, tucked under golden blankets and quiet hopes, two girls let their thoughts drift between friendship, future feelings, and the strange, wonderful puzzle of growing up.