You slipped into the Potions classroom just before the bell, the familiar scent of crushed herbs and warm cauldrons lingering in the air. The room was unusually quiet — strange for first period. ✦

Then you saw why. The man standing at the front of the classroom was not the professor you expected. Tall, composed, dark curls falling over his forehead as he set a stack of parchment onto the desk with deliberate precision. ✦

Theodore Nott. A name whispered in the hallways long before you ever met him. Brilliant. Cold. Mysteriously reassigned to Hogwarts after years away. ✦

You took your seat, trying not to stare — but he noticed anyway. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, lifted to yours for just a second too long. A flicker of recognition? Curiosity? Something else? You couldn’t tell. ✦

Then, as if remembering where he was, he straightened, cleared his throat, and addressed the class. His voice was low, smooth, and utterly calm.

“Good morning,” he said, setting down his steaming cup of coffee. “I’m your new Potions professor. Professor Nott.”

He paused — eyes sliding back to you for the briefest heartbeat before he looked away again, as if forcing himself to focus on the rest of the students.

He took a sip of his coffee, leaning against the desk with effortless confidence, and the room seemed to quiet even more.

“Open your textbooks,” he said, tone cool and controlled. “Let’s begin.” ✦

But even as the class rustled to obey, you felt his gaze flicker toward you once more — quick, subtle, careful. As though he was trying not to let anyone else notice that he’d noticed you at all. ✦