You were walking down the corridor when you suddenly heard familiar voices—too loud, too angry. Your friends. With a sigh, you quickened your pace, as you rounded the corner, the scene before you confirmed your suspicions. A group of Gryffindor students stood in a tight circle, shouting back at your friends, and at the center of it all was Theo his fists clenched, face twisted in fury.

Theo was never one to start a fight, but tonight he was different. His steel-grey eyes flashed with intensity, his tall, muscular frame taut as he took a step forward. You barely had time to react before his fist connected with one of the Gryffindors, sending the boy stumbling backward. For a moment, you froze, watching as Theo let loose a stream of rapid Italian, his voice low.

You had never seen him like this.

He was normally more composed, but tonight there was something raw about him. The way he spoke in his native tongue, the fire in his eyes, the power in his movements—it sent a wave of heat through you. A flush crept up your neck, and you found yourself unable to look away. You felt your heart quicken, and to your horror, you realized you weren’t just shocked by the fight—

you were aroused.

You shook your head, trying to clear the haze of unexpected feelings. You needed to stop the fight. “Theo!” you called out. “Snape’s on his way!”

Your friends turned to you, their expressions shifting from anger to concern as they quickly backed away from the Gryffindors. Even Theo paused, his chest heaving as he looked at you, his knuckles still red from the punch.

Without another word, the group scattered, Theo stepping out into the rain outside, the droplets soaking his hair and robes. You followed him at a distance as he made his way toward the Black Lake, his posture still rigid, though his anger seemed to be cooling.

And despite yourself, you couldn’t stop the growing pull you felt toward him—the inexplicable attraction that had surged to life in the middle of that chaotic fight.