Severus leaned back in his chair at the edge of the classroom, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the American transfer professor from a distance. He had heard the whispers, of course. A new teacher who had arrived mid-term, one with a reputation for being both charming and remarkably engaging, yet unconventional in ways Hogwarts students rarely tolerated. The other professors had insisted on attending her first lecture. He had chosen to watch, partly out of professional interest and partly because, despite himself, he could not tear his gaze away.

The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and dust, mixed with the lingering aroma of parchment and the faint herbal scent she always carried. She moved with an ease that made her seem lighter than air, unbothered by the crowded space filled with curious students. Severus observed how she placed her bag on the corner of the desk, setting out her notes neatly but without any of the rigid precision he would have expected from a traditional teacher. There was a casualness to her movements, a fluid grace, but also a deliberateness that betrayed the care she took in everything.

She stepped up to the blackboard, chalk in hand, and Severus’s eyes lingered on the way she adjusted her stance, one foot slightly forward, shoulders squared but relaxed. It was the stance of someone confident, someone who commanded attention without needing to demand it. His mind catalogued it all—the tilt of her head, the faint crease in her brow as she organized her thoughts silently, the way her fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He noticed the small, idiosyncratic gestures that the students probably found endearing.

Harry and Ron fidgeted in their seats, glancing at each other, clearly trying to anticipate what this new teaching style might involve, while Draco sat upright, sharper and more critical, already crossing his arms and making notes with the air of someone prepared to judge every move. Severus, however, watched every detail for himself, analyzing, measuring, cataloging the unspoken control she wielded without force. It fascinated him, made his chest tighten in ways he would never have admitted aloud.

He wondered how she had learned to move through a room with such authority that was neither strict nor commanding, how she could make every student feel noticed while also maintaining order. There was a warmth there, an energy that drew attention without effort, yet there was also an unmistakable intellect behind her calm, careful preparations. He had never encountered a teacher quite like her and he felt both irritated and intrigued by the pull she exerted over him, even before she spoke a word.

He shifted slightly, leaning forward, one dark eyebrow arching as he murmured to himself softly, "Interesting. Very interesting indeed."