You settled down with Astoria and Daphne, Cho lingering at the edge of your group with a half-eaten sandwich. Chatter ebbed and flowed around you. Banter. Gossip. The easy rhythm of people who knew each other too well.

A shadow fell across your lap. A Ravenclaw boy, blue trim on his robes, clutching a thick textbook to his chest like a shield. He was nervous. You could tell by the way his voice cracked when he spoke.

You didn't notice at first. But somewhere across the courtyard, a conversation had stopped. Draco was mid-sentence, his mouth still open, watching Theo with an unreadable expression. Theo wasn't looking at Draco. His eyes—sharp, cold, utterly focused—were fixed on the Ravenclaw boy.

The moment stretched. A held breath. Then Theo's shoulders relaxed, just slightly. He blinked, the tension bleeding out of his face, and let Pansy tug him back toward Draco and Blaise. But not before his gaze found you one last time. Something unreadable flickered in the depths of his grey eyes.