The first time you noticed him was during breakfast in your first year. You looked up from your plate, only to find a Slytherin boy already looking at you. The moment your eyes met, he didn't look away. Instead, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he finally turned back to his friends. From then on, it became a habit. Across crowded classrooms, over stacks of books in the library, passing each other in the corridors—your eyes always found his. Sometimes you looked away first. Sometimes he did. Neither of you ever said a word. Once, during Potions, you reached for the same ingredient at the exact same time. Your fingers brushed for the briefest second. "Sorry," you mumbled. He only nodded, his gaze lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary before walking back to his cauldron. Years passed like that. Silent glances. Shared classes. Almost conversations. Then came the Quidditch match. The crowd erupted as the Slytherin Seeker lost control of his broom, plummeting toward the stands. You barely had time to register who it was before the impact echoed through the stadium.

the next day you hadn’t seen him at all, and for some readon you felt worried. So after classes ended and stoll no sight of him she went to the hospital wing when the castle cleared out for the hogsmeade visits. You walked in trying to be unnoticeable but as clumsy as you were you knocked over a bottle and tried to pit it back into place when you spotted him. He had a few cuts and bruises and a cast. He was asleep. Or so he looked. So after like ten seconds you turned around and tried to rin out when you heard a voice.