The corridors of Hogwarts were alive with the usual chatter and bustle of students heading to their next classes. Evan moved through the halls with his usual air of detachment, not particularly interested in the conversations happening around him. His thoughts were elsewhere, his mind heavy, though he tried to push the feeling aside. It was always this way at the start of a new year—trying to blend in, keep his head down, and get through each day without too much attention.

That plan was quickly disrupted as he rounded a corner near the Ravenclaw tower.

A group of Ravenclaw students, including a few girls, were standing by the stairs. Evan barely glanced at them as he walked past, but one of the girls, a fourth-year named Eliza, caught sight of him and immediately flashed a bright, almost mischievous smile. She sidestepped out of the group, leaning in his direction.

"Evan, right?" she said, her voice smooth and teasing. "I thought I saw you in the library last week. Didn't realize you were so... intriguing."

Evan, caught off guard, blinked at her. His first instinct was to be polite, to offer the usual half-hearted smile and keep moving, but something about the way she looked at him, the way her gaze lingered just a little too long, made him uncomfortable. She tilted her head as though she were studying him, a playful glint in her eye.

"I'm not used to seeing you around here," she continued, her tone flirtatious. "But maybe I should. You seem... interesting."

Evan shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the attention. He tried to smile politely but it came off more strained than usual. "Uh, thanks," he muttered, his voice low, hoping to make his escape without much fanfare.

But Eliza wasn't finished. She stepped even closer, her presence suddenly too warm, too personal. She reached out, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear with a casual air, her fingers brushing against his skin in a way that was far more intimate than Evan had anticipated.

"Maybe you could teach me something about Potions sometime," she said with a wink. "I could use a tutor... or maybe just some company. What do you think, Rosier?"

Evan took a small step back, his stomach tightening. He managed to keep his voice steady, though his discomfort was evident. "I'm not— I'm not interested in tutoring anyone," he said quickly, though his words were tinged with awkwardness. He wasn't sure why this interaction felt so strange, but it did. It felt forced, as though Eliza's interest was almost too much, too calculated. "But, um, thanks anyway."

Eliza smiled again, unfazed. "You're a hard one to read," she teased, her voice light and mocking, before she turned and rejoined her group, casting a final glance over her shoulder at Evan. "Catch you later, Rosier."

Evan stood still for a moment, blinking as her words hung in the air. His heart was pounding slightly faster than it should have been. He shook his head, trying to focus, to dismiss the unease that gnawed at him.

Just as he turned to leave, a familiar figure appeared from the hallway—Barty Crouch Jr. His steps were quick, purposeful, but when he saw Evan standing there, he slowed down, pausing briefly to take in the scene. His gaze flicked from Evan to Eliza and back again, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Didn't expect to see you caught up in that," Barty muttered, a casual smirk curling at the corners of his lips, though his eyes were sharper than usual.

Evan raised an eyebrow. "Caught up in what?"

"In that," Barty said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of Eliza and her group, who were still laughing and chatting amongst themselves. "She's a bit forward, don't you think?"

Evan shrugged, his unease still simmering beneath the surface. "She's just being friendly, I guess."

Barty's expression shifted slightly, but he didn't say anything for a moment. His gaze lingered on Eliza, watching as she laughed with her friends, completely unaware of the tension that had just risen in the air between the two boys.

A subtle flicker of irritation passed through Barty's chest. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of Eliza talking to Evan in that way—so familiar, so... comfortable—bothered him. Why did it bother him? he wondered.

He knew he wasn't interested in Eliza. She was attractive enough, sure, but he'd never been the type to focus too much on casual flirtations or attention from random girls. He preferred something more substantial, something that came with the right kind of challenge. And yet, there was something about the way she had touched Evan, the way she had looked at him, that sparked something unexpected in Barty. A flash of possessiveness, of irritation—an almost primal urge to step in and break it up.

But why? Barty asked himself again, frowning. He didn't care about her, didn't care about whatever casual flirtation this was. He told himself it didn't matter, that it was just a fleeting interaction. He didn't like feeling this way. He didn't like caring about who was talking to Evan. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

"Guess she likes you, though," Barty said finally, his voice casual, though it didn't quite mask the bite in his tone. "I'd be careful, though. Girls like that don't usually take no for an answer."

Evan glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "You think I need your advice on how to talk to a girl?"

"No," Barty replied quickly, his voice a bit sharper than he intended. He shook his head. "Just don't let her drag you into something you won't want to deal with. You'll be the one left to deal with the aftermath."

Evan chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll keep that in mind."

Barty gave him a small nod, but the unease still gnawed at him, though he tried to push it aside. The thing was, he wasn't jealous—he couldn't be, right? He didn't care about Eliza. Not really. He didn't want her. She was too... forward, too obvious for his taste.

But why did it feel like something was missing now that she was gone?

Barty shook his head, frustrated with himself. He was overthinking it. It was just one interaction. No big deal.

"You coming to dinner?" he asked, trying to change the subject, his voice a little quieter now.

Evan nodded, though he couldn't help but wonder if the tension between him and Barty was something more than just casual irritation. As they walked toward the Great Hall together, Evan felt the familiar weight settle back in his chest, but something about the way Barty had looked at Eliza lingered in his mind. He couldn't help but wonder if his friend was just as confused about the situation as he was.

As the two boys walked in silence toward the Great Hall, Evan couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled in his chest after his interaction with Eliza. The way she had touched his hair, the flirtatious glint in her eyes—he felt like he was still carrying the weight of that moment. And Barty's odd reaction only added to the confusion. The way Barty had looked at Eliza—like he was sizing her up, like he was irritated by her attention toward Evan—lingered in Evan's mind, but he couldn't figure out why.

The more Evan thought about it, the more it unsettled him. Barty was his best friend. He was used to Barty's bluntness, used to his sarcasm and often sharp words. Barty was always straightforward, always got to the point. But this? This strange possessiveness? Evan had never seen that side of him before. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

The noise of the Great Hall grew louder as they approached. Evan was thankful for the distraction, but when they entered, the air seemed thick with energy. Students were already gathering at their houses' tables, talking, laughing, and catching up after the long summer break. Evan sat down quickly at the Slytherin table, not sparing a glance at anyone else.

Barty followed him, still a bit lost in thought, and took the seat beside him. But there was an unusual tension between them, a subtle but palpable gap that hadn't been there earlier. Barty wasn't talking as much, his usual sharp remarks replaced by an occasional glance at Evan, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"You alright?" Evan finally asked, his voice low, watching as Barty's gaze shifted to him.

Barty blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, and gave a small, almost forced smile. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess. Long day." He picked up a piece of bread, breaking it into smaller pieces, his actions more mechanical than usual.

Evan didn't push. He had learned long ago that when Barty was quiet, it was often because something was on his mind, something he didn't want to talk about. But Evan couldn't ignore the knot forming in his stomach—the one that had come from Barty's strange reaction to Eliza. It felt like there was something unsaid, something hovering just beneath the surface.

Before Evan could dwell on it any further, a voice broke into the moment.

"Evan! Barty!" It was Regulus, sliding into the seat beside them with a casual smile. "How was your summer?"

"Fine," Barty replied quickly, his voice flat, though his smile remained. "Nothing interesting."

"Same here," Evan added, not looking up from his plate. His appetite had waned a bit after the interaction with Eliza, and his stomach felt tight, but he forced himself to eat.

There was a shift in the conversation then as the rest of their friends from Slytherin trickled into the room—Pandora, Mary, and Lily among them. It was a familiar rhythm, the same group of friends reuniting after the summer, laughing about little things, talking about the new school year. But even as they all fell into their usual banter, Evan couldn't shake the odd feeling that lingered between him and Barty.

And then, as if to confirm his suspicions, Barty glanced at him again. His eyes flickered between Eliza, who was sitting at the Ravenclaw table, talking animatedly to her friends, and Evan, whose gaze was lowered. The subtle glint in Barty's eyes hadn't gone unnoticed, but Evan pretended not to see it. There was something deeper there, something Barty wasn't saying—something Evan couldn't quite understand.

Later that night, after the excitement of the first dinner of the year had passed, the students made their way back to their respective common rooms. As usual, Barty and Evan shared a dorm in Slytherin, along with Regulus. But tonight, the dorm was quieter than usual.

Regulus had already gone to bed, and the dim light from the fireplace flickered softly across the room. Barty sat at the edge of his bed, pulling off his shoes, his movements slow. Evan sat at his own bed, trying to get himself ready for sleep, though his mind was far from tired.

He heard Barty sigh, followed by a soft chuckle, but it didn't sound like it was meant to be humorous. Evan looked over, catching Barty's eyes for a moment, before Barty quickly looked away.

"Something on your mind?" Evan asked, trying to sound nonchalant. But his voice betrayed him; there was an edge to it.

Barty shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "No, just thinking. It's nothing."

Evan didn't push. He wanted to. He wanted to ask what was bothering Barty, why he'd been acting so different. But the last thing he wanted was for the conversation to turn into something awkward or forced. The truth was, he didn't know how to navigate this change in Barty's behavior. He didn't even know what was bothering him about it.

But then, as though Barty couldn't keep it to himself any longer, he spoke, his voice low and unsure.

"I don't know," Barty started, his words slow as if he was trying to make sense of them himself. "That girl. Eliza. She just... I don't know. It bugs me. Seeing her like that, all... flirty with you." He paused, running his fingers through his hair again. "I don't like it."

Evan froze. He had expected many things, but not this. Not a confession from Barty. It felt almost vulnerable, something Evan hadn't seen before in his usually confident friend. Barty, who always held his emotions close to the chest, was clearly uncomfortable admitting anything.

"You don't like it?" Evan repeated, trying to wrap his head around it. He wasn't sure what Barty meant by that—whether he didn't like Eliza's attention, or if he didn't like the idea of Evan getting that kind of attention.

"No," Barty said quickly, shaking his head. "It's not like that. I mean... I don't want her. I'm just... I don't like how she was with you. It's weird. She doesn't even know you. She's just—"

Barty stopped himself, clearly frustrated. Evan could see that he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to explain it to Evan. He ran a hand over his face, like he was trying to push the thought away.

"I don't know what it is," Barty muttered. "I just—she shouldn't have been that familiar. I don't know why it bothers me."

Evan stared at him for a moment, trying to process what Barty was saying. For a second, he almost felt sorry for his friend—sorry that Barty felt so conflicted, so caught up in something that he didn't understand. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a sense of confusion of his own.

"I don't know, Barty," Evan said quietly, feeling the weight of the conversation between them. "Maybe it's not such a big deal. It was just a bit of flirting. Nothing serious."

But the uncertainty in Barty's eyes remained. "Maybe," he muttered, his tone softening. "Maybe I'm overthinking it."

Evan couldn't shake the feeling that Barty wasn't overthinking it at all. Something had changed, and it was more than just Eliza's flirtation. There was something deeper—something unspoken—lingering between the two of them. Neither of them seemed willing to admit what it was, but Evan had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.

As the firelight flickered, casting shadows on the walls, Evan lay down, his thoughts swirling. The year was just beginning, but already, everything felt different.

And he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.