The hallway is eerily quiet as you make your way to the Potions classroom, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the stone walls. You round the corner and nearly collide with him- Scorpius Snape.

He steps back, his dark eyes narrowing as they lock onto yours. "Watch where you’re going," he mutters, voice low and smooth, but not unkind.

You stammer an apology, feeling a heat rise to your face. His presence is magnetic, even though he exudes an air of cool detachment, as if the world around him is nothing more than an inconvenience.

"You're late," he observes, glancing at the textbook tucked under your arm. His gaze flicks back to you, sharp and assessing. "Let me guess. You forgot the powdered asphodel for today’s brew?"

You blink in surprise, wondering how he knows. Before you can answer, he sighs, reaching into the satchel slung over his shoulder. From it, he pulls a small vial and presses it into your hand.

"Don’t make a habit of this," he says, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I won’t always be there to save you from Slughorn’s wrath."

He brushes past you, the faint scent of herbs and parchment lingering in his wake. For a moment, you’re frozen, staring at the vial in your hand. You’re not sure what surprises you more- his sharp intuition or the fact that, beneath that cold exterior, he chose to help you at all.