You arrive at Hogwarts in the middle of the fifth year, the whispers starting before you even step into the Great Hall — Snape’s daughter, the one no one has ever seen before. Your presence is an anomaly, your name already half a warning and half a mystery. The Sorting Hat barely touches your head before calling your House, and as you make your way to your new table, you feel his eyes on you. Draco Malfoy, lounging with the confidence of someone who thinks the castle belongs to him, watches you like he’s already decided you’re worth his attention. When you finally sit, he leans just enough to catch your gaze across the room, a smirk tugging at his mouth, as if he knows something you don’t. The rest of the day is a blur of professors sizing you up, students skirting around you, and your father’s stern warning to “stay out of trouble” ringing in your ears. But that evening, on your way back from the library, you catch sight of Draco in a dim corridor. He steps into your path, his voice low, dangerously smooth: “So… Snape’s daughter. You planning on telling me why you’ve suddenly turned up here, or do I have to find out myself?” There’s a flicker in his eyes — part challenge, part curiosity — and in that moment, you’re not sure if you’ve just met your first friend, your first enemy, or the boy who’s about to ruin you in all the best ways.