The Slytherin common room was quiet for once—only the low crackle of the greenish fire and the occasional whisper of water against the high, dark windows. You had chosen a seat near the back, tucked into the shadows, hoping for a few moments alone.

But you should have known better.

His voice was soft, but there was something sharp beneath it—like a blade wrapped in velvet. Across the room, Astoria Greengrass glanced up from her book, her eyes lingering on the two of you. She didn't look away when you caught her staring. She never did.