At the Slytherin table, the usual group had claimed their spot near the middle. Draco Malfoy sat with his back to the wall, posture perfect, expression bored as he picked at the sleeve of his robes. Pansy was on his left, already complaining about the humidity ruining her hair. Lorenzo was laughing at something Barty had said, while Theodore sat quietly, nursing a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Astoria Greengrass had positioned herself directly across from Draco, leaning forward on her elbows with a practiced smile.

You look so handsome today, Draco, she said, tilting her head. New robes?

Same ones I wore last year, he replied flatly, not bothering to look up.

Well, you wear them well. She reached across the table, fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. I missed you over the summer. Did you get my letters?

I got them.

And?

And nothing. Draco finally lifted his gaze, his grey eyes cold. I told you last year, Astoria. I'm not interested. I don't know how many more ways I can say it.

Astoria's smile faltered for just a second before she recovered. You'll change your mind eventually. Everyone does.

I won't.

Pansy snorted into her goblet, and Lorenzo exchanged a look with Barty, who was barely suppressing a grin.

Give it up, Tori, Pansy said, setting her drink down. He's not worth the effort. Trust me.

I didn't ask for your opinion, Pansy.

And yet, here I am, giving it anyway.

Astoria opened her mouth to snap back, but the words died on her lips. Her gaze had drifted toward the massive oak doors at the entrance of the Great Hall, and her expression shifted into something sharp and curious.

Draco noticed the change. He followed her line of sight.

The doors were still swinging shut, and there, walking in with the last stragglers of the first-years, was you.

He almost didn't recognize you at first. And then he did.

You looked... different. Not just physically—though that was part of it. Your hair was styled differently, your robes fit like they'd been tailored specifically for you, and there was something about the way you carried yourself that made people turn their heads.

But it was your expression that caught his attention. There was no softness there. No polite smile. No quiet deference. You looked like you owned the castle and everyone in it.

Bloody hell, Lorenzo muttered under his breath. Is that—

Y/n, Pansy finished, her eyes wide. What the fuck happened to her over the summer?

Theo leaned forward slightly, studying you with quiet interest. She looks... different.

She looks like she'd hex you for looking at her wrong, Barty added, grinning. I like it.

Draco said nothing. He just watched as you walked past the Slytherin table, not even glancing in his direction, and took a seat further down the bench—right next to Daphne, who greeted you with a raised brow and a knowing smile.

Astoria scoffed, turning back to Draco. She's certainly acting different. Must have finally realized she's pretty.

She always was, Draco said, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

The table went quiet.

Pansy's eyebrows shot up. Lorenzo's grin widened. Theo just looked amused.

Did you just—

Shut it, Parkinson. Draco's jaw tightened, and he reached for his goblet, taking a long drink to avoid the stares. She's just—different. People change over the summer. That's all.

Since when do you notice anything about her? Astoria asked, her voice dripping with irritation.

I notice everything, Greengrass. That's what makes me better than you.