Her office was ready now. She glanced toward the room, curiosity mixed with apprehension.
"My office,"
She wanted to see it—wanted to step into the space that was now hers, even if it had started off as a cleaning task forced upon her.
Taking a steadying breath, Hermia made her way toward the freshly cleared room.
Hermia stepped into her new office and paused, taking in the space with quiet awe.
The room was small, but it had a charm of its own—a simple rectangular layout with white walls that made it feel bright and welcoming.
A single window framed one side of the room, offering a glimpse of the city beyond.
The soft afternoon light filtered in, casting a gentle glow across the wooden floor and the modest furnishings.
The desk stood at the center, a sturdy piece with slight scuffs on its edges—signs of age rather than wear. It had clearly been unused for a long time, much like the office itself.
