The Great Hall was unusually quiet for break, save for the occasional murmurs of students hunched over last-minute assignments and the clinking of goblets. Most students used this time to unwind before their next class, but Lilith Nightingale had little interest in idle chatter today. Instead, she was seated at the far end of the Slytherin table, leaning over a parchment covered in scribbled notes and half-erased sentences.

Across from her sat Leo Wilkes, his small fingers gripping his quill tightly, his lower lip tucked between his teeth in concentration. His first-year assignments had been piling up, and while most older students wouldn't have given a second thought to a struggling eleven-year-old, Lilith had noticed. And without hesitation, she had pulled him aside, determined to help.

"No, see, you're overcomplicating the incantation," Lilith said, tapping her finger against the parchment. "It's not about force—it's about intent. You have to channel the magic, not wrestle it into submission."

Leo frowned, glancing between his notes and the small flicker of light his wand had produced. "But I did everything right," he mumbled.

Lilith arched an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Magic isn't always about being right. It's about feeling it."

Leo sighed, shoulders sagging, and Lilith softened. She reached over, nudging his hand slightly so his grip on the quill relaxed. "Try again. But this time, focus less on the words and more on the result you want."

Leo inhaled deeply, nodding, and tried once more. This time, a small, steady glow hovered at the tip of his wand, faint but present. His face lit up with triumph, and Lilith couldn't help but smile.

"That's it," she praised. "Keep practicing, and you'll have it mastered in no time."

Leo grinned up at her, his confidence visibly growing. "Thanks, Lilith. You explain things better than the professors do."

Lilith chuckled. "That's because I actually pay attention."

The moment was small, insignificant to most, but not to her. Nor to Leo. He looked up at her like she had just handed him the key to something greater than a simple spell. She saw herself in him—someone who had been expected to understand things quickly, to be perfect, but had struggled beneath the pressure. She wasn't sure if Leo had the same weight on his shoulders, but she could feel that familiar tension in the way he clenched his quill too tightly, in the way he held his breath when casting even the simplest spells.

And without realizing it, she cared.

Unbeknownst to her, at the Gryffindor table, Elias Thorne was watching.

He sat with his usual group, laughing and talking as though he was fully present in their conversation, but his hazel eyes kept flicking toward Lilith. The way she leaned in, focused entirely on helping Leo, the way her expression softened when she saw him succeed—it was a side of her he rarely saw, a side she didn't offer to just anyone.

She was different like this. There was no sharp tongue, no calculated distance. There was just her, patient and kind, guiding someone through their struggles as if she had all the time in the world to do so. And Elias found himself unable to look away.

"She's good with him," a voice beside him noted. Elias turned to see Victoria Newton, who had followed his gaze and smirked knowingly.

Elias exhaled, playing it off with a casual shrug. "Yeah, well, she's got the patience for it."

Victoria hummed, unconvinced. "Or maybe you just like watching her."

Elias scoffed but didn't argue. Instead, he glanced back at Lilith, who was ruffling Leo's hair as he beamed up at her. The way she did it was so natural, so absentminded, as though she'd done it a hundred times before. He could almost picture her like this always—offering comfort without realizing it, teaching without needing recognition.

Leo packed up his parchment, beaming as he spoke. "You really think I'll get better?"

Lilith rolled her eyes but smirked nonetheless. "Obviously. I don't waste my time on lost causes."

Leo nodded, grinning, and then rushed off toward his next class, leaving Lilith to gather up the notes they had been working on. Her fingers ran absentmindedly over the parchment, smoothing out the creases as she exhaled slowly.

Elias watched as she stared at the empty space where Leo had been, an odd expression flickering across her face. Was it nostalgia? Longing? He wasn't sure. But something told him that whatever she had just felt, it had nothing to do with spell work.

Yeah, maybe he did like watching her. Maybe he liked the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the way her voice softened when she encouraged Leo, or the way she seemed so completely at ease when she was helping someone. There was no guarded expression, no carefully chosen words—just genuine care, unfiltered and effortless.

And it made him wonder.

Not just about her, but about himself. About why he cared, about why he was still watching even when he told himself he wasn't. About why every time he looked at her, he found himself wanting to know what was going on in that impossible, brilliant mind of hers.

But, of course, he'd never admit that. Not even to himself.