The Slytherin common room smelled faintly of polished stone and burning candles, the kind of smell that made most Hufflepuffs wrinkle their noses. But Ashton Maze didn’t care. He liked it. He liked the shadows that clung to the corners, liked the quiet hum of scheming plans and whispered alliances.

And then there was Bella Black. Bright as a sunflower in midwinter, even when she tried to hide it under her Hufflepuff robes. She bounced into the common room like the sun herself had decided to enroll at Hogwarts, smiling at everyone, laughing at things no one else found funny. Except Ashton. He didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh.

Bella had been trying to catch his attention for months now, and she thought she’d finally cracked it when she cornered him in the library. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “You’re always… alone. That’s kind of sad.”

Ashton’s eyes flicked to her, green like cold glass. “I’m not sad,” he said flatly. “And I don’t need company, thank you.”

Bella tilted her head, sunlight catching in her hair. “You’re grumpy all the time. Someone should cheer you up.”

He scoffed. “You wouldn’t survive five minutes in my life. Trust me.”

Bella’s smile faltered, just for a second, and Ashton noticed. Just for a second, her eyes seemed… soft. Vulnerable. And suddenly he wanted to look away, to disappear into the shadows he called home.

“I…” she hesitated. “I like you, Ashton. I know I’m Hufflepuff sunshine and all, but I—”

“Stop,” he said sharply, though his voice trembled a fraction he refused to acknowledge. “Stop right there.”

Bella blinked. “What?”

“I like you too,” he admitted, voice rough, like gravel sliding down a cliff. “But… I can’t be with you. Not like that. You’re… you’re too bright. I’d ruin you. I’d turn you dark.”

Her eyes filled with confusion and hurt, but she didn’t argue. She understood. Somewhere deep down, she always had.

“Then… we just… exist in the same world, I guess?” she said quietly, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah,” Ashton said. And maybe, just maybe, that small admission—that shared breath of unspoken longing—was enough for now.

Because shadows and sunlight couldn’t fully merge, but for fleeting moments, they could dance.