Hogwarts, spring 1890…

At first, you were just another student—another voice in the crowd for Headmaster Black to dismiss with his usual pomp and disdain. But lately… he’s noticed. The way you linger a little longer in his presence, the way your gaze doesn’t waver when he prattles on. You laugh at his wit when others groan, you defend him when your classmates scoff.

And somehow, against all reason, the stern Headmaster finds himself watching you back—his eyes lingering a moment too long in the Great Hall, his words catching when you smile at him. Today, he found himself looking around the Great Hall, trying to seek you out at your House table. No.

Salazar forbid… it unsettles him. Yet the thought of you won’t leave him be.