The cool autumn breeze drifts through the open window of the Hogwarts library, the air tinged with the earthy scent of the surrounding Forbidden Forest. It’s late afternoon, the sun casting long, golden shadows across the stone floor, and the library is unusually quiet. You sit at a large wooden table, your Ancient Runes textbook open before you, quill scratching lazily across the parchment as you try to focus on translating a particularly complex set of Nordic runes. But your thoughts keep drifting elsewhere.

It’s not the runes that occupy your mind, though—it's him. Professor Theodore Nott.

He’s been your Ancient Runes professor for over a year now, and though he remains professional, there’s always been a sense of something simmering beneath the surface. A tension in the way his storm-grey eyes follow you when he thinks you’re not looking, the subtle curve of his lips when you ask a particularly insightful question in class. And sometimes, just sometimes, you feel like you’re the only one who sees it.

Today, however, you’re not in the classroom, where things are always formal. You’re in the library, a place of quiet sanctuary, and it feels different. Less guarded.

As you lean back in your chair, stretching your arms above your head with a soft sigh, you hear the familiar, measured footsteps approaching. The soft tap of polished shoes against stone. You don't need to turn to know who it is.

"The translations going well?" Theo’s low, velvety voice breaks the silence, the sound sending a small shiver down your spine. He’s standing behind you now, close enough that you can smell the faint trace of smoke and mint on his robes—a scent that’s unmistakably him.

You glance over your shoulder, meeting his eyes. They’re calm, unreadable as always, but there's something in the way he lingers that suggests he’s not just here for academic small talk. The sunlight filters through the tall library windows, casting a warm glow across his sharp features, highlighting the faint scar on his jawline.