The castle was alive with the murmurs of students moving through the halls, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows along the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, ink, and the faint, distant aroma of breakfast lingering from the Great Hall. It was the kind of crisp morning that made the marble floors feel colder beneath the soles of their shoes, a reminder that autumn had truly arrived at Hogwarts.

Lilith Nightingale walked with quiet precision through the corridors, her expression carefully schooled into something unreadable. She was always conscious of the way she carried herself—her father had instilled the importance of appearances in her since childhood. Weakness was unacceptable. Doubt was a liability. And yet, despite her efforts to mask everything, there was a tight coil of irritation in her chest, brought on by none other than Elias Thorne.

The events of the previous day still echoed in her mind. Slughorn pairing them together had been an exercise in patience she hadn't known she possessed. Elias had spent the entire lesson half-teasing, half-distracting, all while barely following instructions. And yet, by some miracle, their Draught of Peace had been one of the few that turned out correctly. Not that she would ever admit he had contributed anything useful.

She caught sight of him now, just ahead, leaning casually against a stone pillar as he laughed with a few of his Gryffindor friends. His tie was loosened—as usual—his golden-brown hair a little too perfectly tousled, as if he hadn't a care in the world. He must have sensed her approaching, because he turned, his hazel eyes locking onto hers almost instantly. The slow smirk that spread across his face only worsened her mood.

"Morning, Nightingale," he drawled, pushing off the pillar to fall into step beside her. "How'd you sleep? Dreaming about our incredible teamwork, I assume?"

She didn't break stride. "If by teamwork, you mean me carrying the weight of our success while you nearly sabotaged us, then yes. It was truly inspiring."

Elias clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me. Here I was, thinking we made a great team."

Lilith cast him a side glance, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Keep telling yourself that."

He let out a low chuckle. "Oh, I will. After all, I'm sure Slughorn will pair us again. He did say we were excellent together."

Lilith fought the urge to roll her eyes, choosing instead to quicken her pace. They were nearing the entrance hall now, where students were filtering out toward their first classes of the day. The massive oak doors stood open, allowing the early morning breeze to sweep through the castle. As she moved toward the staircase leading down to the dungeons, she felt Elias still beside her, refusing to take a hint.

"You know," he mused, "I think you secretly enjoy my company."

She halted abruptly, turning to face him. He barely stopped in time, his usual smirk faltering as she narrowed her eyes. "Thorne, if I had a Galleon for every time you thought too highly of yourself, I'd be richer than my entire bloodline combined."

Elias grinned again, undeterred. "Admit it, you'd be bored without me."

"I'd be at peace," she corrected, before stepping past him and descending the stairs.

By the time she arrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts, the tension coiling in her spine had settled into something sharper. Professor Snape stood at the front of the classroom, his black robes flowing as he moved with his usual measured precision. The atmosphere was already heavy, the air thick with expectation.

Lilith slid into her usual seat near the front, Victoria taking the spot beside her with a sigh. "I swear, if Thorne so much as breathes in our direction, I might hex him."

Lilith huffed a quiet laugh. "You'd have my blessing."

As if summoned by the mere mention of his name, Elias strolled into the room, his confidence irritatingly intact. He took a seat further back, offering Lilith a lazy wave as he did. She ignored him.

Snape's voice cut through the murmuring students like a blade. "We will be starting today with non-verbal spells," he announced, his dark eyes sweeping over the class. "A skill that requires both focus and discipline—qualities some of you lack." His gaze flickered over a few students pointedly, and Lilith smirked slightly when she saw Elias shift in his seat.

Snape wasted no time, launching them into practice. Lilith grasped her wand tightly, her mind already sinking into the familiar rhythm of controlled magic. She was good at this. She excelled where others floundered. One by one, students attempted spells without speaking, their frustrations evident as failed attempts littered the room with misfires.

Elias, as expected, was struggling. Lilith, on the other hand, executed her spell on the first attempt, the flick of her wrist effortless as she sent a silent disarming charm toward Victoria. Their professor barely spared her a glance before moving on—Snape did not hand out praise easily, though Lilith knew he took note of every successful spell.

When the lesson ended, Snape gave them a final, piercing look. "I expect improvement from those of you who failed. Dismissed."

Lilith was gathering her books when she heard a familiar voice behind her. "I bet you practice that in front of the mirror."

She turned to see Elias watching her, arms crossed, his usual smirk in place. "Unlike you, I don't need to," she replied coolly.

Elias grinned. "One day, Nightingale, I'm going to beat you at something."

She raised a brow. "That day isn't today."

He let out a laugh, falling into step beside her as they exited the classroom. "No, but it gives me something to look forward to."

She sighed, resisting the urge to shove him down the staircase as they walked. This was going to be a long year.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The day stretched on, filled with endless classes, responsibilities, and the ever-present weight of expectation pressing down on Lilith's shoulders. By the time evening arrived, she found herself in the library, seeking the quiet sanctuary of books. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the ancient tomes lining the shelves, and the distant sound of quills scratching against parchment filled the air.

She was deep into an Arithmancy text when she felt a presence across from her. Looking up, she found her younger brother, Dorian, watching her with his usual thoughtful expression.

"You looked like you could use some company," he said simply.

Lilith gave him a small smile, closing her book. "Maybe I do."

Dorian hesitated before speaking again. "You know, I heard Father's letters arrived this morning."

She exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table. "Did you read yours?"

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "Same as always. Expectations. Warnings. Disappointment that I don't seem to be perfect enough."

Lilith studied him for a long moment before reaching across the table, squeezing his hand briefly. "You're better than his expectations, Dorian. You always have been."

His lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to believe her. "And what about you?"

She sighed. "I'm exactly what they want me to be."

Dorian frowned. "That doesn't sound like something to be proud of."

Lilith didn't respond. Instead, she turned back to her book, the weight in her chest settling in a way that was too familiar.

Dorian, to his credit, didn't push her further. He simply sat there, providing the quiet comfort of someone who understood.

And for the first time that day, she felt just a little less alone.