— The class had ended hours ago, but your mind kept circling back to that moment—when Severus answered Slughorn’s question before anyone else, offering a solution to a potion modification no one else even considered. Even Slughorn, so easily distracted by louder, more charming students, had looked genuinely impressed. But the rest of the class? They hardly noticed. A few rolled their eyes. One or two exchanged smirks. Typical.

You’d seen him do it before—say something brilliant, something precise—and get brushed aside like it didn’t matter. But it did. You noticed.

Later, as the late afternoon sun turned the surface of the Black Lake to gold, you spotted him. There, under the old tree that curved out toward the water like it was listening to the lake’s secrets, sat Severus. Legs folded, book in hand, completely still but fully alert, like a cat poised in rest. You’d seen him there before—more than once. Always alone. Always reading.

You weren’t exactly friends. You’d never exchanged more than the necessary words in class, but something about him intrigued you. The quiet sharpness. The solitude. The way he never seemed to expect kindness from anyone.

Today felt like a chance.

You crossed the lawn, the grass soft beneath your shoes, your heart a little louder with each step. As you neared, he glanced up—just once—and then back to his book, expecting you to keep walking. But you didn’t.

“Hey,” you said gently, and when he didn’t respond, you added, “brilliant solution you got there earlier… at Slughorn’s class.” with a hint of proudness, a smirk formed on your lips as you sat down beside him with a respectable space between the two of you.