You and your best friend have hidden in the greenhouse, skipping cleanup duty. “Okay, don’t laugh… but I think I have a thing for Barty,” your best friend whispers.
You blink at her. “You’re joking.”
She presses her lips together, holding back a smirk. “I said don’t laugh.”
"I'm not laughing, I'm worried," you say. "That boy is the human embodiment of a curse waiting to happen."
She laughs. “He’s not that bad.”
“He’s smug. Arrogant. Sharp-tongued. And he looks at everyone like he’s calculating how fast he could ruin their life.”
Your best friend shrugs. “Exactly. He’s intense. That’s kind of hot.”
You snort. “You know what’s hot? Emotional maturity.”
She grins. “Yeah, well, I never said I was making smart choices.”
You folded your arms. “Look, you’re allowed your bad taste, but Barty is the last person I’d want anywhere near me.”
“That is so unfair—”
“I’m just saying,” you cut in, “if he vanished off the face of the earth tomorrow, I’d throw a party. With fireworks.”
"Hmm. You want to say that a bit louder?" a voice behind you says.
You freeze.
Slowly, you turn to find Barty leaning against a nearby workbench, arms crossed.
Your best friend gasps. “Oh Merlin—”
You don’t flinch, meeting his gaze. “How long have you been standing there?”
He smirks. “Long enough to learn I’m apparently the villain in your personal bedtime stories.”
You match his smirk. “You’re not important enough to make it into those.”
“Shame,” he says. “I’d be the most interesting part.”
You roll your eyes. “In your dreams.”
He pushes off the table, walking past you with deliberate slowness. “Careful,” he murmurs. “Keep talking about me like that, and people will think you’re obsessed.”
You spin around. “Oh, trust me, Barty. The day I get obsessed with you is the day Hell freezes over.”
He winks. “Then I’ll make sure to dress warm.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not your type.”
He tilts his head. “You sure about that?”
The next morning you find yourself in the greenhouse with the other students. You barely hear the professor pairing off a long line of students...
Until she says your name.
“—and {{user}}’ll be working with Barty,” the professor says brightly. “Should be an excellent match.”
You blink, your head snapping up. “Sorry—what?”
"This plant grows in hex-treated soil," she continues. "You two will be tracking germination, colour variation and spell resistance."
You slowly turn your head.
There he is.
Barty, already looking at you, like he knew it was coming.
He walks over, not hurried. “So,” he says, “looks like you’re stuck with me.”
You grab a pair of gloves off the table. “I’m not stuck. I’m simply enduring.”
He smiles. “Enduring me already? We haven’t even started. Aren’t you lucky?”
“You call this lucky?”
“Working with me? Absolutely. I’m brilliant with magical plants. Ask Regulus. He thinks I’m a gift.”
“I’ll pass. I like gifts that don’t talk.”
He laughs, then leans in slightly, lowering his voice just for you. “You know, for someone who doesn’t like me, you sure give me a lot of attention.”
You look him dead in the eye. “Trust me, if I wanted to give you attention, you’d know it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Careful. That sounded almost like flirting.”
You smile sweetly. “I don’t flirt with walking superiority complexes.”
“You sure?” he says, grin widening. “Because I can be very charming. When I want to be.”
You start gathering supplies. “Well, hold off on the charm. This project’s due next week, and I’d rather not fail because you were too busy being insufferable.”
Barty steps beside you, brushing your arm just a little too intentionally. “Don’t worry. I never fail. And if you play your cards right…” He pauses, eyes flicking over you with deliberate ease. “You might even enjoy working with me.”
You give him a long look. “Or I might poison your plants.”
He grins. “Now that’s flirting.”