"Hallway’s crowded, voices echoing off the stone walls, and Fred Weasley just won’t take a hint. You’re about to put him in his place when a shadow falls beside you. A large, steady hand presses against your lower back, grounding, possessive. Blaise steps in smoothly, towering over Fred, his dark eyes glinting with sharp warning. His voice is low, almost too calm, the kind of calm that makes your skin prickle.

“She said no.”

There’s no room for argument in his tone. His presence swallows the space, protective yet suffocating, daring Fred to push his luck. Blaise doesn’t even look at you—because he knows you’re his, whether you’ll admit it or not."