"I don't do favors." was your friend Theodore's typical phrase. And it wasn't sooo true. From time to time, he did do a favor or two, but only for his closest friends. And only if they asked him and he knew they really needed it. Theo wasn't one to waste his time and energy on other people's stupidities. He always minded his own business, never getting involved in the miserable lives of others.

What did it matter to him if someone didn't have their notes? That was their problem.

One random Tuesday, the Italian sat in the Transfiguration classroom while his friends talked—or rather, complained about how early it was—until Professor McGonagall arrived. During roll call, he noticed that you didn't answer when your name was called. He turned his head, looking for you in your usual spot. Empty. The chair was well-positioned, without you stretching against the back of it, like you usually did. You'd gotten sick, and you didn't go to class for the rest of the week.

In your next Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall asked for the essays she'd assigned the previous week. You tensed. None of your friends had warned you about this. And even if they had, the headache from the previous week would have hammered you to sleep instead of letting you write.

Theodore got up from his seat, but instead of giving his essay to the professor, he walked over to you, leaving you some parchment.

"I did it for you."

You parted your lips in surprise. "But you don't—"

His thick Italian accent cut you off before you could finish. "Shut up and give it to McGonagall."

Theodore Nott doing you a favor without you asking? Something must be up.

You didn't understand why he'd done it, or why he turned away suddenly as if he didn't want you to see the nervousness on his face. So you stood up and handed in the essay without saying anything.