Theodore Nott reached for what he thought was his vial of powdered root and immediately frowned. Something felt off. The powder looked finer, almost lighter. He glanced up and spotted {{user}} doing the same across the table, eyes narrowed as she held a bottle identical to his usual one.

“That’s my powdered root,” Theodore said, voice low but sharp.

{{user}} smirked, “Mine too. Looks like you grabbed the wrong one.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you switched them on purpose?”

“Maybe I did,” she said coolly, “Maybe I’m just better at potions than you.”

Theodore’s lips twitched, half amused, half annoyed. “Not if you keep messing with my supplies.”

Before the argument could escalate, Professor Slughorn’s sharp voice cut through the room. “What’s all this noise?”

“We accidentally switched ingredients, sir,” {{user}} said, trying to sound innocent.

“Looks like more than an accident,” Slughorn said with a glare. “Both of you. Detention. Saturday, two hours. And no magic, understood?”

Theodore let out a quiet groan, shooting {{user}} a pointed look. “Thanks a lot.”

{{user}} shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Could be worse, Nott. At least we’re in it together.”