The moment Lilith stepped into the Great Hall, the air around her seemed to shift. Conversations faltered, eyes flickered toward her, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the entire room had turned to watch her entrance. She was used to scrutiny, used to the way people measured her against the impossible standards of her family name. But this? This was different.

Theo moved beside her, his presence grounding her as they walked further inside. The long tables were filled with students, some eyeing her curiously, others whispering amongst themselves. At the staff table, Professor McGonagall stood near the center, her sharp gaze already fixed on Lilith.

"This doesn't feel like a casual summons," Theo muttered under his breath.

Lilith merely nodded, her expression unreadable as they approached. When they reached the staff table, McGonagall gestured for her to step forward while Theo hung back, arms crossed as he observed the exchange.

"Miss Nightingale," McGonagall said, her tone firm but not unkind. "Come with me."

Lilith felt the weight of every gaze burning into her back as she followed McGonagall toward the side doors leading out of the Great Hall. As the doors shut behind them, the noise of the dining hall was replaced by the quiet hush of the empty corridor.

"I assume you're wondering why I called you here," McGonagall began, walking at a brisk pace with Lilith keeping stride beside her.

"The thought crossed my mind," Lilith replied, keeping her voice even.

McGonagall didn't look at her as she spoke, her eyes focused ahead. "I received a letter from your father this morning."

Lilith's stomach twisted.

She had known this moment was coming, had anticipated the eventual consequences of her actions, but still, the words struck like a hammer against her ribcage.

"What did he say?" she asked, her voice careful, guarded.

McGonagall finally stopped walking and turned to face her. "He expressed concern regarding your recent behavior. He believes you are being... distracted."

Lilith clenched her jaw. Distracted. She knew exactly what he meant.

McGonagall studied her, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I won't pry into your personal affairs, Miss Nightingale, but I will offer you this—Hogwarts is a place for learning, for growing into who you are meant to be, not who others dictate you should become."

Lilith inhaled slowly, willing herself to remain composed. "With all due respect, Professor, my father does not see it that way."

McGonagall's lips pressed into a thin line. "No, I imagine he does not."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. Then, McGonagall softened slightly. "If you ever need guidance, Miss Nightingale, my door is always open."

Lilith met her gaze, and for a fleeting second, she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like—to not be bound by her family's expectations, to not feel the crushing weight of their name upon her shoulders.

"Thank you, Professor," she said at last.

McGonagall gave a short nod before turning, leaving Lilith standing alone in the dimly lit corridor.

For a long moment, she stayed there, her mind swirling with a thousand thoughts. Then, with a slow breath, she turned and made her way back toward the Great Hall, bracing herself for whatever awaited her next.

As she stepped through the doors, the Great Hall had returned to its usual hum of conversation, though a few lingering gazes followed her return. She ignored them, slipping into her seat at the Slytherin table where Theo was waiting.

"Well?" he asked quietly, leaning toward her.

Lilith hesitated, debating whether to tell him everything. Instead, she simply said, "My father sent a letter."

Theo exhaled, nodding knowingly. "Of course he did."

She pushed her food around her plate absentmindedly, her appetite non-existent. Across the table, Draco Malfoy was watching her, his expression unreadable. He had been silent for most of the morning, but now his eyes held something she couldn't quite place—curiosity, perhaps. Or suspicion.

"Your father's expectations are suffocating, aren't they?" Theo mused, his voice low.

Lilith gave him a sharp look, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words.

Before she could respond, Draco spoke. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Nightingale."

She forced a smirk, masking the turmoil beneath. "Perhaps I have."

Draco studied her for a moment before nodding as if coming to some unspoken conclusion. "Careful, Lilith," he murmured. "When people start questioning things, they tend to lose their way."

Lilith met his gaze, unflinching. "Maybe some paths are meant to be lost."

The tension between them thickened before Draco merely smirked and turned back to his meal, satisfied for now.

Lilith inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the morning settle on her shoulders. Hogwarts had always been her sanctuary, but with every passing day, she felt the walls closing in, the expectations pressing harder, and the whispers of rebellion growing louder.

She had spent her whole life following a script, but for the first time, she was beginning to wonder if she wanted to write her own.

She wondered if breaking away from the expectations forced upon her was even possible—or if she had already been woven too deeply into a fate she never chose.