Katie.

"Girls," came that tight fake politeness from behind us, causing the entire Gryffindor table to still.

Adrien and I slowly turned from our breakfast to lock eyes with Professor Umbridge, her eyes burning down on us as they flicked to the Wealey twins and glared over at Harry.

"Professor," Adrien shot back, just as tightly.

"It was told to me that neither of you reported to Detention yesterday," her voice seeped into us like oil—not the honey she was attempting to play out. I watched as she tilted her head, in an attempt to seem friendlier, but all it did was make her more insufferable. "You should really learn to follow the rules girls, more carefully—wouldn't want a rerun of Beauxbatons."

"Is that a threat?" Adrien scoffed as she moved to stand, but I caught her knee.

"Oh, of course, Professor. We'd be positively heartbroken if we let you down." I spoke, allowing my sweet venom to gut check her.

Adrien smiled and then flipped her hair over her shoulder, ""You're simply an inspiration."

There was a twitch in her eye as she scoffed, muttering something under her breath and storming back up to the Professor's table at the front of the Hall.

The second Umbridge stormed off in her pink horror of a cardigan, the Gryffindor table erupted.

Fred dramatically slapped both hands over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded. "You absolute legends," he wheezed, gasping like he needed a medical team.

George shook his head, grinning ear to ear. "Honestly. It's rude to set such a high bar for the rest of us this early in the year."

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Ron snorted into his goblet.

Hermione, predictably, looked torn between pride and pure existential dread. "You're going to make things worse," she hissed under her breath, glancing anxiously toward the head table. "She'll come after you harder now."

"Good," Adrien said sweetly, stabbing a sausage with enough force to qualify as a murder attempt.

Harry just grinned, sharp and reckless. "You two are bloody brilliant."

Fred leaned across the table, winking at Adrien. "If you ever fancy joining our department of mischief, Blackwood, we're offering internships—we'll keep offering until you accept."

"Unpaid internships," George added solemnly. "But they come with an excellent dental plan."

Adrien smirked. "Does the dental plan cover 'accidental' hexes to the face?"

Fred beamed. "It's encouraged, actually."

I just shook my head, grinning despite myself, and stole a piece of toast off George's plate. He gasped like I'd robbed him at wandpoint.

"Traitor," he muttered.

"You love it," I said, smug.

Ron was still laughing into his eggs. Even Hermione cracked a reluctant smile when Adrien leaned back and loudly whispered, "Think she'll put us in a special 'Naughty List' binder or just start a dartboard?"

Fred almost fell off the bench.

Across the Hall, Umbridge was glaring down at us, her mouth a tight little line.

Adrien waved sweetly.

Fred and George joined in immediately, giving her matching, deeply sarcastic salutes.

Umbridge's eye twitched.

"Is it too early to start a betting pool on how fast you two get banned from the corridors after dark?" George mused aloud.

"Put me down for Halloween," Ron said, reaching for his bag.

"Optimistic," Harry said. "I'm giving them until the next full moon."

Hermione groaned, hiding her face behind her textbook."You're all going to get detention for existing at this rate."

Adrien raised her goblet toward her like a toast. "Worth it."

Across the Hall, Draco and Blaise were watching too — and not even pretending to hide it.

Draco's face was unreadable.

Blaise looked like he was trying not to spontaneously combust.

Good.

Let them watch. Let them see exactly who they were dealing with.

Because we weren't scared anymore.

"Blackwood." Someone cleared their throat. "Blackwood."

The clipped, stern voice sliced through the buzz of breakfast like a Severing Charm.

Adrien and I both jumped slightly, snapping our heads around to find Professor McGonagall looming behind us, lips pursed so tightly they practically disappeared.

"With me," she said briskly.

The table went silent around us.

Fred coughed dramatically into his hand. "It's been nice knowing you."

George mimed tossing flowers onto our graves.

Adrien shot them both a lazy wink as she shoved to her feet. I followed, schooling my face into something that might pass for 'respectful' if you squinted sideways and were half-blind.

McGonagall didn't wait to see if we were following — she simply spun on her heel and marched out of the Hall.

We shared a quick look — Adrien mouthing, what fresh hell is this? — before trailing after her. The walk to her office was silent but heavy — like something invisible was pressing down on us with every step. Once inside, McGonagall closed the door with a sharp click, turned, and faced us fully. Her sharp gaze swept over us, assessing.

"You're not in trouble," she said, which, ironically, made me tense even more.

Adrien blinked. "Wait — seriously?"

McGonagall's mouth twitched — not a smile, exactly, but something close. "If you were," she said dryly, "we'd be having a very different conversation."

I shifted awkwardly. "Then... what's this about?"

McGonagall folded her arms, looking almost — almost — proud. "When someone comes along with some of the most impressive abilities I've seen in decades, one most ensure safety for both the individual and those around them."

My stomach flipped.

Adrien went still beside me.

"You're referring to..." I started cautiously.

"The wandless, and more notably, the nonverbal magic you displayed during the final confrontation with Professor Anselme," McGonagall finished crisply.

Adrien and I exchanged a glance.

"Professor Dumbledore and I have spoken about this at length since last year," McGonagall continued. "And we believe it would be... unwise to leave these talents unchecked."

I narrowed my eyes. "Unwise how?"

"Unwise," she repeated firmly, "because such magic, left undirected, tends to find its own outlet. Often at unfortunate times."

Adrien coughed lightly into her hand. "Define 'unfortunate.'"

McGonagall arched a brow. "Uncontrolled outbursts. Magical accidents. Spontaneous dueling incidents." Her mouth twitched again. "Property damage."

I resisted the urge to grin. Barely.

"So," McGonagall said briskly, "you will report here every Thursday after your last period. We'll begin specialized training."

Adrien's mouth actually fell open a little.

"You're gonna teach us?" she blurted. "Like... on purpose?"

McGonagall's eyes twinkled. "Miss Blackwood, I would very much prefer you learn to control your magic here in my office... rather than discover the consequences of not doing so when the stakes are much higher."

I swallowed hard.

Fair.

"Starting next Thursday," McGonagall said, her voice brooking no argument. "Be prompt."

We both nodded mutely.

Dismissed, we shuffled out of the office and back into the corridor, still half-stunned.

It wasn't until we were halfway back toward the common room that I rounded on Adrien, grabbing her arm and tugging her to a stop."What the hell was that stunt you pulled at breakfast?" I hissed.

Adrien blinked, all faux-innocence. "Which one?"

I shot her a glare sharp enough to slice stone."The flirting stunt," I said, low and furious. "With Fred. In front of Blaise."

Her mouth twisted into a smirk — defensive, cocky, dangerous."Please," she scoffed. "You're one to talk. You were practically burning a hole through Draco's head all morning."

"Not the point," I snapped. "You're playing with fire, Adrien. You really think Blaise is just going to sit there and watch you cozy up to Fred and not lose his mind?"

She bristled instantly, folding her arms tight across her chest. "He gave up the right to care—remember?" she said, sharp and stubborn.

"You know what I mean," I said, stepping closer, voice dropping. "You're not exactly being subtle. You're poking a dragon and gonna act surprised when it breathes fire."

Adrien flushed — angry and vulnerable all at once."Maybe I'm not trying to be subtle," she bit out. "Maybe," she added, voice rising slightly, "I'm tired of being brushed aside."

I rocked back slightly, caught off guard by the rawness bleeding through her words.

For half a second — a long, stretched heartbeat — we just stared at each other.

And then—Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

We turned.

Draco Malfoy sauntered toward us, hands shoved deep in his pockets, mouth a tight, grim line.

Adrien stiffened at my side.

I did too — because even before he opened his mouth, I could feel it:

Whatever this was? It wasn't going to be friendly.

Draco stopped a few feet away, hands still jammed deep in his pockets. His gaze flicked to Adrien, cool and unreadable.

"I need to talk to Katie," he said, low and deliberate.

Adrien's shoulders stiffened at my side. "Yeah? Well maybe Katie doesn't want to talk to you."

I smirked slightly. "Maybe Katie can decide for herself," I said, throwing Adrien a look.

She narrowed her eyes at Draco one more time — pure, lethal warning — before muttering, "I'll be right down the hall." Her footsteps echoed away, reluctant and sharp.

Draco exhaled like he'd been holding his breath.

"This better be good," I said, tilting my head. "You've got three minutes."

He jerked his chin toward an empty classroom, already striding toward it without waiting to see if I followed.

Typical.

I stepped in after him, letting the door swing shut with a thud. Crossed my arms. Glared.

"Start talking."

He didn't fidget. Didn't pace. He just stood there, tension wound tight under his skin.

"My parents found out," he said bluntly. "About Adrien. About her bloodline."

I didn't so much as blink.

"They got confirmation somehow," he went on, jaw tight. "Demanded distance. From Adrien."

Not me. Adrien.

I stared at him, cold and steady.

"But you knew," I said, my voice dropping to something sharp. "You knew there was no version of this where I left her behind."

He flinched — a tiny thing, but I caught it.

"I did," he said. "And it pissed me off. Because for once—" His voice broke off, and he dragged a hand through his hair, making it fall messier over his forehead. "For once I wanted something that wasn't part of their stupid plans. Something I actually wanted."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

He stepped closer, closing the space between us until I could see the storm brewing behind his stupidly pretty eyes.

"You," he said, voice rough. "I want you."

For a second, it knocked the air clean out of me.

And then I shoved it away.

I smiled sweetly. "Lucky me. First prize in the Malfoy Family Circus."

He made a low, frustrated sound. "Pansy is what they want," he snapped. "Not me."

"So what's your plan?" I asked, cocking my head. "String her along for show? Parade around like the perfect son while sneaking off to snog the dirty little blood-traitor behind the greenhouse?"

The words came out harsher than I meant.

Draco flinched — but it only pissed him off more.

"You think this is easy for me?" he growled, stepping into my space.

I didn't move.

"You think it doesn't kill me every bloody time I see you with someone else? Laughing, flirting, pretending you don't see me watching?"

I smiled, slow and dangerous. "Cry me a river, Malfoy. Maybe Pansy can knit you a sympathy scarf."

He laughed — low and humorless.

"You're impossible," he muttered.

"You're spineless," I shot back. "You had a choice. You chose."

He shook his head, frustration burning through him. "It's not that simple—"

"It is that simple," I snapped. "You either fight for what matters or you don't. And you made your choice loud and clear when you let them shove Pansy down your throat without even blinking."

His face twisted — like he wanted to argue, like he wanted to throw the walls down between us.

Instead, he said quietly, "You're wrong."

I laughed — sharp and broken and wild. "Prove it," I said.

He stared at me — something wild and furious and desperate flashing behind his eyes.

But he didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't do anything except stand there.

And that — more than anything — told me everything I needed to know.

I pushed past him, letting my shoulder clip his hard enough to jolt him.

"If you want Pansy," I said, voice like ice, "go have her."

I turned sharply, hand closing on the doorknob—

—but before I could wrench it open, Draco moved.

Fast.

The door slammed shut with a bang that shook the hinges. And suddenly, I was pinned against it — Draco's hands braced on either side of my head, his chest nearly flush with mine, his breath ragged.

"Don't," he rasped, low and furious. "Don't you ever say that again."

I froze — every nerve sparking to life, every breath catching in my throat.

"You think I want her?" he growled, voice rough against my ear. "You think I'd be standing here, risking everything, if I gave a damn about anyone but you?"

The space between us evaporated.

His mouth crashed into mine — desperate, angry, wild — and my brain short-circuited.

For one wrecked, electric moment, I kissed him back.

Hard.

Because I hated him.

Because I loved him.

Because he was still mine somewhere deep down, and I was still his even when it hurt like hell.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me closer, and it was too much — his mouth, his heat, his everything — and I could feel myself unraveling.

But then—

Reality punched through the haze.

This wasn't right. This wasn't enough. Not like this.

With a broken gasp, I tore my mouth away from his, shoving hard at his chest.

He staggered back, breathing hard, eyes wide with something raw and wrecked.

I didn't give him a chance to speak.

Didn't give myself a chance to fall apart in front of him.

I wrenched the door open, ducked under his arm, and ran.

My boots pounded the stone floors, heart slamming against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack open. Hot, stupid tears blurred my vision.

I didn't stop until I slammed straight into someone.

Strong hands caught me before I could hit the ground.

"Katie—" Adrien's voice, low and alarmed. I looked up, breathing hard, vision swimming.

And the look on Adrien's face — worried, furious, ready to burn the whole world down — broke something in me completely.

Without a word, I buried my face against her shoulder, shaking.

Adrien wrapped her arms around me, fierce and protective.

I didn't have to say it. She already knew.

And even if the rest of the world was falling apart — even if Draco Malfoy had just shattered my heart all over again — I still had this. I still had her.