You and Oliver Wood had always been… friends. Close friends. Fun friends. Friends who teased each other relentlessly and talked about everything—except, apparently, the feelings lurking under the surface. And you were determined to keep it that way.

So when Professor Snape paired you with Oliver for Potion class, you assumed it would be another ordinary day: brew, mix, maybe a small explosion, and then retreat to your respective dorms.

But nothing about today would be ordinary.

“Okay, Y/N,” Oliver said, grinning as he uncorked a vial of sparkling liquid. “Professor says this one’s all about creativity. Let’s not blow anything up… or, you know, ourselves.”

“Right,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to keep the nerves from your voice. “Just a simple potion.”

You added the last ingredient: a drop of shimmering moonstone extract. The potion hissed, frothed… and suddenly, the world around you dissolved in a flash of light.

You grabbed Oliver’s arm. “What the—?”

When the light faded, you were standing in the same classroom, but something felt… off. The colors were sharper, the shadows longer, the air heavier. You looked at Oliver, who was staring at you with wide eyes.

“This isn’t Hogwarts…” he muttered.

You nodded, heart thudding. “Something about this feels… real, but not real.”

You stepped outside class, expecting the familiar hallway and staircases. But what you saw made your stomach drop.

There, in the corridor just ahead, were… yourselves.

Your double and Oliver’s double were locked in a kiss, his arms wrapped around you, your hands tangled in his hair. The sight hit you like a Stunning Spell.

You froze. Oliver froze. And somehow… your doubles froze, too, as if sensing your gaze.

“Uh…” you croaked. “I—what—how…?”

Oliver stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “I—Y/N, I didn’t—”

You wanted to hide, to laugh, to panic—all at once. But your heart refused to calm. The image of yourselves kissing made something warm coil in your chest, something you’d been denying for months.

“Do… do you think that’s… us?” you whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Oliver swallowed. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced by something raw and honest. “I… I think that’s… how it should be.”