The Prefects’ Bathroom was already warm when she stepped in, steam curling along the floor like soft smoke. Lorenzo Berkshire stood at the edge of the tub, wand in one hand, towel riding low on his hips. He turned when he heard her.

“You’re late,” she said.

“You’re early,” he countered, grinning.

She raised a brow. “You’ve been in here staring at yourself in the bubbles, haven’t you?”

“Only until you showed up,” he said, his eyes drifting. “Now I’m staring at you.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped into the bath without comment. The water shimmered with lavender and eucalyptus, warmth enveloping her instantly.

Lorenzo slipped in beside her, water lapping gently at their shoulders. They didn’t touch, but he sat close enough that their knees brushed underwater.

He said nothing for a while—just leaned his head back and let the steam settle around them.

When she glanced over, she caught him staring again.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.”

Lorenzo didn’t even pretend to deny it. “Can you blame me?”

She gave him a look. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said with a lopsided smile. “You’re beautiful. I’m seventeen. That’s my entire defense.”

She splashed him, but her cheeks flushed.

The water was warm, but he flicked his wand again and the temperature rose slightly—just enough to deepen the heat.

He sighed contentedly. “Perfect.”

“You always do this,” she said. “Make everything feel cinematic.”

“I like when you feel good,” he said simply. “Even if it’s just in a bath.”

That quieted her.

He turned to face her more fully, voice softer now. “Can we do this more often?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Bathe?”

“No.” He smiled nervously. “Be together. Really. Not just… this.”

Her throat tightened a little. She hadn’t expected the question, not in the haze of scented steam and soft candlelight.

But she’d thought about it.

“All right,” she said quietly. “Yeah.”

Lorenzo leaned in and kissed her—just a soft press of lips to lips. A question, not a demand.

When he pulled back, he was still smiling, smaller this time. Calmer.

“We’ll probably get caught.”

“Probably,” she said. “But you’ll think of something.”

“I always do.”

They sat there for a while longer, steam rising around them, silence settling comfortably between heartbeats.

In a castle full of chaos, secret staircases, and moving portraits, this moment—simple and warm—felt like the most magic of all.