For the first time in nearly sixteen hours, nobody remained in the potion wing except Julie. The final vial sat on the workbench in front of her.

Months of research. Countless failed attempts. Three small explosions. One official reprimand from Severus Snape. And an alarming amount of caffeine.

All for a single question. Were soulmates real?

Julie stared at the shimmering silver potion. Then, before she could overthink it, reached for the testing parchment. A simple demonstration. One final trial. Nothing more.

The potion touched the page. For a moment, nothing happened. Then silver light spread across the parchment. Letters began to form. Slowly. Deliberately. One word. Then another.

Julie froze. The room suddenly felt very, very quiet.

Because staring back at her in elegant silver script was a name she knew better than her own.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

The vial slipped from her fingers. It didn't break—just rolled across the bench and stopped against a stack of research notes, as if the universe was determined to be calm about this even though Julie absolutely was not.

She picked up the parchment with both hands, held it closer, then farther away, then tilted it toward the light as if the words might rearrange themselves into a more reasonable answer.

They did not.

Julie waited until his footsteps faded down the corridor. Then she pulled the parchment back out and stared at the name again.

Draco. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Her best friend. Her most trusted person. The man who'd held her hair back when she'd gotten food poisoning from a questionable street vendor in Diagon Alley. The man who remembered that she took her tea with one sugar and a splash of cream. The man who had absolutely no business being her soulmate.

Except the potion was right. It had been tested on thirty-seven couples, and it had been right every single time.

The potion was never wrong.

Julie sank into her chair, the parchment still clutched in her hand, and tried to remember how to breathe.

Severus Snape stood in the doorway, arms folded, dark eyes scanning the cluttered laboratory with the practiced assessment of someone who had spent decades in these rooms.