You stumbled down the stone corridor, your hands pressed against your black eye and the blood dripping from your nose. Your robes were ripped in a few places, a dark smear across your sleeve. You swore under your breath, hating that your sixth-year pride had led you here.

And worse, the fight wasn’t even over.

You had locked eyes with Scorpius Malfoy in the Great Hall earlier — his pale, smug face full of that same arrogance his father had. Words had been exchanged. Then shoves. Then curses. And now…this. ✦

You leaned against the wall outside the empty classroom, trying to catch your breath, when you heard footsteps echoing on the cold stone floor. You braced yourself.

“Looks like someone finally got their comeuppance,” a voice drawled behind you. You turned and saw him — Scorpius, smirk still in place, though there was a faint flicker of something else in his pale grey eyes.

“You’re going to regret that,” you spat, blood trickling onto your hand as you wiped at your nose. ✦

“Maybe,” he said calmly, tilting his head. “Or maybe… you just look better when you’re angry.”

Your fists clenched again. Despite your injuries, his presence made your blood boil — the way he leaned casually against the wall, unscathed, perfectly composed. The sheer Malfoy arrogance radiated off him. ✦

“I don’t need your pity, Malfoy,” you growled.

He stepped closer, and for the first time, he didn’t look smug. He just studied your face, as if really looking for the first time. “You’re ridiculous,” he said quietly, almost a whisper, “and stubborn as hell. But… impressive.”

You froze, unsure how to respond. That tone wasn’t mockery. It was…respect. ✦

He straightened suddenly, clearing his throat. “Look, I don’t want to drag this out anymore. Not here. Not like this.”

Before you could say anything, he turned and walked away — leaving you leaning against the cold wall, heart still hammering, face stinging, and that strange, unsettling feeling that you hated him… and maybe, just a little, didn’t.