Draco always prided himself on being the best, especially when it came to Potions. His skill with ingredients, his precise measurements, and his ability to brew potions without fail were unmatched, or so he believed. So when you, someone he never expected to struggle, had trouble with the simplest of brews, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to offer his expertise—or rather, his superiority.

“You do realize you’re supposed to stir clockwise, right?” Draco teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you carefully measure the powdered dragon liver, your brow furrowed in concentration. ”Unless you want the potion to turn into a bubbling mess, of course.”

You shot him a quick, irritated glance, but kept your focus on the cauldron. ”I’m doing it, Draco,” you muttered, though doubt crept in at the back of your mind.

Draco’s smirk widened as he leaned over, his face dangerously close to yours. ”You’ve got to be more precise,” he said softly, his voice rich with amusement. ”A little off in your measurements and the whole thing will explode. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

You huffed, pushing the stray strand of hair from your face. “I’m trying, alright?”

”Oh, I’m sure you are,” Draco replied with a teasing glint in his gray eyes. ”But you’re still going to need my help, aren’t you? I suppose I’ll have to teach you everything, as usual.”

His voice was playful, but there was a sharp edge to it, a hint of superiority that made your cheeks burn with annoyance.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he adjusted your hand on the stirrer. ”Just like this,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against yours as he guided the motion in slow, deliberate circles.

You could feel the weight of his presence, his gaze practically burning into your skin as he hovered over you. ”You know, you really could do this if you paid more attention,” he said, his tone shifting to something lighter, more teasing. “But I suppose it’s cute how hard you’re trying.”