The dungeons were colder than usual, the scent of crushed herbs and burnt sage hanging thick in the air. Professor Snape had just announced the partner list for the term’s advanced potion project, and, lucky you, you were paired with Draco Malfoy.

You glanced across the room and met his eyes. He was already looking at you, eyebrow slightly raised, lips curved in that trademark smirk, equal parts amused and annoyed. He didn't say anything at first, just gathered his notes with a sigh, standing with all the indifference of a boy born to command but sentenced to tolerate.

Draco slid into the seat beside you with effortless confidence, his presence immediately filling the space. He set down his materials with care, arranging them in that frustratingly precise way of his before finally acknowledging you with a sidelong glance.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and edged with mockery, “try not to blow anything up, will you?” He leaned slightly toward you, the faintest hint of spice and smoke lingering on his robes. “I’d rather keep both my eyebrows this term. Unlike you, they’re actually symmetrical.”