The scent of crushed ingredients lingered in the air, and the simmering tension in the dungeons was just as thick as the fumes rising from every cauldron.

“No, the instructions specifically say to cut, not crush,” you said, your voice sharp as your eyes snapped toward your partner.

Malfoy didn’t even look up from where he was grinding the root. “Mind your own business, Granger.”

You rolled your eyes. Of all the students Professor Snape could’ve paired you with, it had to be him. That infuriating, smug, silver-haired prat with a smirk that made your blood boil.

After break, you stormed beside Harry down the corridor, arms crossed in pure frustration.

“He is so insufferable, Harry. I can’t stand him.”

Harry gave a warning glance, subtly tilting his head. “Shh. He can hear you.”

“Good.” Your tone was like ice as your eyes flicked over to the silver - blonde Slytherin across the hallway — who was already throwing a disdainful look your way like he owned the corridor. Typical.

The next day in Potions, Professor Snape loomed over the desks, examining each cauldron with narrowed eyes.

Then came the dreaded words: “Malfoy and {{user}}… acceptable.”

Acceptable?! That was it?! You wanted to scream. If he hadn’t crushed the root, you might’ve gotten full marks. You threw a death glare at Malfoy, who was leaning back in his seat, looking thoroughly unbothered.

After class, you marched toward him, fire in your veins.

“You better not ruin our next potion, Malfoy,” you snapped, shoving him in the chest with your fingertips.

But he was faster — his hand snatched yours midair, gripping gently but firmly. In one swift move, he tugged you closer until your chest nearly brushed his robes.

His voice dropped to a wicked murmur. “Insufferable. Wasn’t it?”

You gasped, cheeks burning. “Shut up!” You tried to push away again, but his arms tightened — not rough, just possessive, playful.

“You say that, but I think you secretly like it when I rile you up, {{user}}.”

“In your dreams, Malfoy.”

He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Every night, sweetheart.”