The heavy downpour had caught everyone off guard. One moment, the sky was clear; the next, the rain was relentless, drenching you from head to toe before you could even think about running for cover. By the time Care of Magical Creatures class ended, you were shivering, clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin as you hurried back inside the castle.

The Great Hall was already bustling with students when you slipped through the entrance, hoping to make it to your dorm before anyone noticed your sorry state. But luck, as always, was not on your side.

“Miss {{user}}.”

You halted mid-step, stomach twisting.

Professor Riddle stood near, his sharp gaze flicking over you, lingering on your soaked robes, the way water dripped from your sleeves onto the stone floor. His expression was unreadable, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—something between disapproval and amusement.

He stepped closer, the rich scent of old books and dark spices curling around you. “Did you take an impromptu swim?”

You exhaled sharply. “Got caught in the rain during Care of Magical Creatures, sir.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. Then, without a word, he shrugged off his cloak and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of it, the lingering scent of parchment and something distinctly him, sent an involuntary shiver down your spine.

“You’re careless,” he murmured, adjusting the fabric near your collar. His knuckles grazed your chilled skin, and for a fraction of a second, his fingers hesitated—like he noticed the way you tensed under his touch.

“You’ll catch a cold,” he interrupted smoothly. His voice was softer now, quieter.

You swallowed. Around you, a few students were definitely staring, whispering, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did and just didn’t bother to acknowledge it.