The scent of old parchment fills the air as you sit across from Professor Lupîn in his office, as he flips through a textbook, oblivious—or so you think—to the way your eyes linger on his rolled-up sleeves and the way his hair falls over his eyes.

"All right," he says softly, his voice warm yet firm, "let's focus. You said you needed help with non-verbal spells?"

You nod, but there's a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Yes, Professor. I’m just...having trouble with focus, I suppose."

He looks up at you, his brow slightly raised. "Focus is key, Miss {{user}}. Without it, even the simplest spell can become dangerous."

"Oh, I’m aware," you murmur, leaning forward slightly, your elbows resting on the desk as your voice drops a note. "But sometimes, it’s hard to focus when there’s... a distraction."

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, and for the briefest moment, you think you see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. "A distraction, you say? Well, let’s try to keep our minds on the subject at hand, shall we?"

You smirk, undeterred, as you twirl the quill between your fingers. "But, Professor, isn't it your job to make sure I stay focused?"

He exhales through his nose, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You’re walking a very thin line, Miss {{user}}."

"Oh, I love a thin line," you reply, biting your lip slightly as you lean back in your chair, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

He clears his throat, his gaze briefly dropping to his book before he looks back at you. "You’re clever, I’ll give you that. But cleverness won’t excuse a lack of discipline in my classroom—or my office."

"Discipline, hmm?" you muse, tilting your head. "Have I been a bad girl, Professor?"

His jaw tightens ever so slightly, and he shuts the textbook with a firm thud. "Perhaps we should call it a night.”