Draco watched as his desk mate did her potion, chopping the ingredients with ease.

His eyes flickered to {{user}}’s face, studying the features— he wanted to memorize that angelic face—and then back to his own potion.

It was no longer than a minute before he glanced back.

“You’re a natural,” he commented, trying to be nonchalant.

He needed her attention, needed something to keep them connected. Before he could say more, he was whacked on the back of the head.

“Pay attention, Malfoy,” Snape’s voice drawled from behind.

Draco’s face flushed out of embarrassment of being caught—not that he would ever be embarrassed of being obsessed with {{user}}, only embarrassed to be caught by a professor, in class.