CHAPTER SIX

Lily leaned on her palm, her green eyes drifting across the bustling Great Hall. Usually, she would have already found her place among her family at the Gryffindor table, exchanging laughs and conversations. But today, her attention lingered elsewhere, drawn irresistibly to Dahlia, who sat at the centre of attention, surrounded by a group of admirers.

It wasn't unusual for Dahlia to attract a crowd. Her sharp wit, striking presence, and effortless charm often pulled people to her like moths to a flame. Typically, Lily would stride over, interrupt whatever pointless admiration ritual was occurring, and whisk her friend away without a second thought. It was a routine they had fallen into over the years. But something had changed recently—something subtle yet profound.

Dahlia's smile.

It looked the same to everyone else, a picture of confidence and allure, but Lily could see through the cracks. She could see the weariness in Dahlia's eyes, the slight hesitation before her lips curved upward. It wasn't the genuine, mischievous grin Lily knew so well. It was a mask, carefully crafted to hide something deeper. And Lily had noticed it coincided with a decision Dahlia made a few weeks ago—a decision to stop her usual pattern of fleeting nighttime escapades.

At first, Lily had jokingly assumed her friend was suffering from deprivation, but as she pieced things together, she realized there was more to the story. Dahlia had changed, and while Lily couldn't pinpoint exactly why, she was certain it wasn't the absence of physical connections that was weighing her friend down.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Hugo appeared at her side, his arms crossed in typical disapproval. "What are you doing standing here, Lily?" he asked, arching a brow.

Lily turned to him, her grin widening. "Hugo, just the person I wanted to see! Remember that favour you owe me from summer? When I covered for you with Grandmother?"

Hugo groaned, his head dropping in resignation. "What do you want, Lily?"

She hesitated, mumbling something incoherent before clearing her throat. "I might be coming down with something," she said dramatically, placing a hand on her chest. "And I'd really hate to pass it on to anyone."

Hugo took a cautious step back. "And you have no concerns about passing it to me?" he asked, sceptical.

"Nope," Lily replied without missing a beat. "But since I'm so thoughtful, I need you to do me a favour and save Dahlia from those people over there." She discreetly pointed toward Dahlia's table, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Hugo followed the direction of her finger and easily spotted Dahlia, which surprised him. Before she had started invading his daily life, Dahlia had been little more than a passing acquaintance to him. But now, for reasons he didn't fully understand, she seemed to stand out, even in a crowded hall. The realization unsettled him, though he quickly shoved it aside.

"They'll eat me alive," he muttered, paling at the thought.

Lily snickered. "They won't. Worst case, they'll just add you to their list of enemies. But they won't actually do anything. They know Dahlia wouldn't like it."

"If that's true," Hugo retorted, narrowing his eyes, "then you don't need strength to save her yourself."

Lily huffed, crossing her arms in frustration. "You know, I've got a whole list of things I could've cashed in for that favour, Hugo. Like skipping class to pull pranks—"

"Fine," Hugo interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of her list. He could already imagine the chaos Lily would unleash if she teamed up with their prankster family, her brother James and their cousin Fred. Compared to those possibilities, this favour seemed far safer.

Without waiting for further explanation, Hugo turned and walked toward Dahlia's table, his unease growing with each step. As he approached, Dahlia looked up at him, her face lighting up with a smile that stopped him in his tracks. For a moment, he forgot why he was there. Her smile, though faintly different from the usual forced one she gave her admirers, had an inexplicable effect on him.

"Dahlia," he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Dahlia's smile widened at the sound of his voice, and she tilted her head in curiosity. "Hugo," she greeted warmly, her tone carrying genuine amusement.

From a distance, Lily slowed her steps, stopping in her tracks as she observed the interaction. A flicker of something unfamiliar crossed her face. Dahlia's smile—it wasn't the same forced one she had been wearing all week.

"Well, would you look at that," Lily whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the din of the Great Hall. Her lips curled into a knowing smirk as her keen eyes stayed fixed on the interaction before her.

Hugo stood awkwardly by Dahlia's table, his usually composed demeanour slightly unraveled under her gaze. Dahlia, for her part, looked utterly unbothered, her trademark confidence emanating effortlessly. But there was something else—something softer in her expression as she tilted her head ever so slightly, clearly intrigued by Hugo's unexpected approach.

Lily leaned a little more against the column she had been casually hiding behind, arms folded across her chest as she observed the scene with growing amusement. It wasn't often that someone managed to rattle Hugo Granger-Weasley, and it was even rarer to see Dahlia giving someone more than her usual teasing charm. There was an ease in the way she looked at him, a quiet moment of reprieve from the storm of admirers still lingering around her.

Hugo, clearly feeling the weight of so many eyes on him, shifted his stance uncomfortably. "Uh, Dahlia," he started, clearing his throat as his gaze darted to the onlookers around her. "Can we, uh... talk? Somewhere less... crowded?"

Lily raised a brow, her grin widening. Oh, this is getting interesting.

Dahlia arched a brow at him, clearly amused. "Less crowded, huh? Why, Hugo, are you asking me to run away with you?" Her tone was playful, but her smile lacked the sharp edge she usually wielded like a weapon.

Hugo flushed a deep red, stammering, "N-not like that! I just... it's noisy here, and I thought maybe you'd want—"

"Relax, Granger-Weasley," Dahlia interrupted with a soft laugh, standing up gracefully. "I'm just messing with you. Lead the way." She turned to the group of admirers still sitting at her table, her voice taking on a firmer tone. "You'll excuse me, won't you?"

There was a murmur of reluctant agreement as Dahlia gathered her things, leaving the group looking slightly dejected. Hugo, meanwhile, blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting her to comply so easily. He stepped aside to let her walk ahead, his usual wit failing him in the moment.

As they disappeared out of the Great Hall together, Lily finally allowed herself a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "Well, Hugo," she mused under her breath, "you might've just bitten off more than you can chew."

She pushed off the column, making her way toward the Gryffindor table. Despite the playful smirk still lingering on her face, there was a sense of satisfaction blooming in her chest. Whatever was happening between Hugo and Dahlia, it was a spark of something real, something Dahlia hadn't allowed herself in a long time.

Lily didn't know where it would lead, but for now, she was content to sit back and watch the fireworks.

Fortunately, Hugo seized the opportunity to steer the conversation in a safer direction as they walked away from the prying eyes of the Great Hall. "So," he began, attempting to sound casual, "I've been meaning to ask you something about potions. Since, you know, you seem to know them better than anyone else."

Dahlia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Oh? Did my reputation as a potions prodigy finally reach even your ears, Granger-Weasley? I'm flattered."

Hugo rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress the small grin that appeared despite himself. "I wouldn't go that far. Let's just say Slughorn's assignments are getting more ridiculous by the day, and I'd rather not spend another evening rereading the same chapter only to come up with nothing."

Dahlia chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as they turned a corner. "Ah, the dreaded Slughorn essays. They're not as bad as you think. He just likes to see if you can think beyond what's on the page."

"Easy for you to say," Hugo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You probably breeze through them without breaking a sweat."

"Maybe," she teased, letting the word hang in the air before turning serious. "But honestly, it's not about being a genius. It's about paying attention to the details most people overlook. Potions are all about subtlety, balance, and understanding the why behind every ingredient."

Hugo found himself nodding along, her words sinking in more than he expected. "So, what you're saying is... I've been overthinking it?"

Dahlia stopped walking and turned to face him, her expression softening. "Exactly. Potions aren't just some cold, calculated science. They're about instinct too. You've got to trust yourself, Hugo. You're a lot sharper than you give yourself credit for."

For a moment, Hugo forgot why he had approached her in the first place. There was something about the way she spoke—earnest and without a trace of her usual bravado—that made him feel strangely at ease. He nodded again, this time with more confidence. "Alright. I'll give it another shot."

"That's the spirit," she said with a small smile, nudging his arm lightly. "And if you need help, I'm around. Just don't expect me to write it for you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, his tone lighter now as they resumed walking.

As they moved further down the corridor, Hugo couldn't help but feel a little victorious. Not just because he had managed to extract Dahlia from the crowd of admirers without incident, but because, for the first time, he felt like they had connected on a level that wasn't wrapped in sarcasm or forced interactions. It felt... genuine.

And if there was one thing he knew about Dahlia Jones, it was that genuine moments with her were rare treasures.