Blade struggled with conflicting emotions, torn between laughter and a desire to scream. Was this a dream, or was he losing his mind?

The Gryffindors, those foolish ones, claimed that you—the girl he despised the most—harbored feelings for him. Why did those words warm his chest, eliciting a smile and an uncomfortable squirm from sheer bliss?

However, the fleeting smile disappeared as he realized the absurdity of it all. He wouldn't let himself be swayed by such trivial emotions. After all, he was a proud Slytherin. He couldn't entertain the idea of being with a Muggle-born.

Dismissing such notions was expected of him, much like what he was doing at that moment.

"Nice work... for a Mudblood," Blade remarked with a crooked grin, his eyes fixating on the potion bottle in your hands. “I’m surprised you even know what powdered moonstone is.”