As you settled into your seat in the familiar dungeon classroom, the scent of brewed potions and aged parchment filled the air. Professor Slughorn, with his jovial demeanor, had just announced the partners for today's class, and you found yourself paired with Blaise Zabini. Known for his striking appearance and quiet confidence, Blaise was a Slytherin you knew through mutual friends and the occasional Slug Club meeting, but you never really got close.

You glanced over at him, taking in his neat appearance—his dark skin glowing under the soft, enchanted light of the classroom, his hair styled perfectly, and his deep, intense gaze that seemed to observe everything. He smelled faintly of coffee, citrus, and fresh linen, a combination that was as intriguing as it was intimidating. Blaise met your eyes with a subtle nod, his expression calm and inscrutable.

"Shall we get started then?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of an Italian accent that you hadn’t noticed before. He seemed effortlessly composed, his posture relaxed yet authoritative, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy that usually accompanied potion-making.

"Sure," you replied, trying to match his calmness. "Do you want to read through the instructions, or should I?"

"I’ll handle it," he said, already reaching for the textbook. As he began reading aloud, his voice steady and clear, you couldn't help but notice how meticulously he prepared the ingredients, his movements confident. It was clear he took Potions seriously—no surprise given his reputation for excellence in the subject.

While he measured and mixed, you took the opportunity to glance at the other students. Theodore Nott was at a nearby table, giving you an encouraging smile. Despite being friends with Theo, you always felt a bit out of place around Blaise, who seemed so self-assured and distant.

"Pass me the asphodel root," Blaise instructed, snapping you back to the task at hand. You handed it over, and he began to finely chop it, his hands moving with ease.