During the sixth year experiment at Hogwarts, we were magically handcuffed to another student for at least a week, the duration depending on our results and behavior, and the professors had clearly chosen the pairs to create tension, especially within our own friend group where things were never as simple as they seemed, mostly because of me — the top student, extremely powerful, and, according to everyone else, the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, which had caused more than a few arguments since almost everyone wanted me — so Pansy was paired with Hermione, Ron with Mattheo, Draco with Harry, Blaise with Astoria, Lorenzo with Theo, Regulus with Daphne, and finally me with Tom, the worst possible option in my opinion, because the moment the enchanted cuffs snapped around our wrists, the air between us became heavy and electric, filled with unspoken resentment and sharp glances, an enemies-to-lovers kind of tension that I absolutely refused to acknowledge, because for now, I couldn’t stand him — not his cold confidence, not the way his eyes lingered on me as if he already knew this experiment would change everything.