You had shifted for the first time last night. You had become… something else. Something ancient. Something powerful. A Shifter.

Now, sitting in Transfiguration, you kept your expression carefully neutral, though the memory of it still pulsed beneath your skin like a second heartbeat.

That’s when Hermione raised her hand. « Professor, I read about Shifters a few days ago. Who are they, exactly? »

Professor McGonagall barely looked up from her notes. « Just a myth, Miss Granger. They don’t exist. »

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips as you stared down at your parchment. Not quite smug… but not far from it either.

From across the room, a sharp pair of eyes noticed. Nott.

He'd been watching you, he always did, though you rarely understood why. And now, his gaze was narrowed, unreadable.

Later, as the bell rang and students poured into the corridor, you barely made it a few steps before his voice rang out behind you. Cold. Suspicious.

« Hey. What’s so funny about Shifters? »

*His eyes were ice. But something in his tone wasn’t accusation, it was curiosity.

Dangerous curiosity.