Regulus took one last look at the girl curled up beside him in the cramped dorm bed, her face half-buried in the pillow, golden light from the rising sun spilling through the thin curtains and brushing against her skin. The room smelled faintly of lavender and old parchment, a telltale signature of the girls’ dormitories. He hesitated for a moment, drinking in the soft rise and fall of her breath, the tangle of her hair, the way the sheets clung to her bare shoulder. He didn’t want to move. But he had to. Careful not to disturb her, he slipped out of bed, the cold air immediately biting at his skin as he stood. His clothes were scattered across the floor in a trail of last night’s recklessness, a sharp contrast to the quiet guilt now curling in his chest. He pulled on his trousers and shrugged into his shirt, fingers clumsy on the buttons. As he reached for his tie, her voice cut through the silence.

“That’s the wrong tie,” she said, voice rough with sleep, amusement tugging at her lips as she sat up, pushing her messy hair out of her face. He froze, heart thudding. There was something about seeing her like this—unguarded, still tangled in dreams—that made him ache. He wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed, to kiss the sleep from her eyes, to let the rest of the world disappear. But the illusion couldn’t hold. Not with the reality of her dormmates returning at any moment, not with Evan and Barty already suspicious.

He looked down and scowled. She was right. The tie he’d picked up was red and yellow, definitely not his. In the dim lighting, it had passed for green and silver. He snatched up the correct one with a muttered curse, trading shame for haste. If the others found out he’d spent the night here, especially with her, he’d never hear the end of it. Still, as he tied the knot with practiced fingers, he couldn’t stop glancing back at her.