ᏕᎮᏗᏒᏦᏕ

𝖴𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌

The next few days at Hogwarts passed in a blur. Rhea's routine was becoming a mix of classes, endless study sessions, and the occasional awkward encounter with Draco Malfoy. Their interactions had shifted from cold indifference to something more ambiguous, leaving Rhea uncertain of how to feel about him.

One morning in Charms class, Professor Flitwick had everyone practice non-verbal spells. It was a skill Rhea had been struggling with, like many of the advanced students. Despite hours of practicing, she could barely muster the faintest flicker of magic without speaking the incantation aloud.

"Focus, Miss Selwyn!" Flitwick's encouraging voice echoed through the classroom as Rhea tried once again to cast the Levitation Charm, her wand poised in front of a feather. She stared at it, willing it to lift, but the feather remained stubbornly on the desk.

She muttered the incantation under her breath, her frustration mounting. Everyone else around her seemed to be managing just fine, their feathers floating gracefully through the air. She glanced at Hermione Granger, whose feather hovered effortlessly above the desk. Even Harry and Ron, though struggling, had managed to get theirs to twitch.

But Rhea's wouldn't budge.

"Concentrate on the intent, Miss Selwyn," Professor Flitwick said gently as he passed her desk. "Feel the magic before you try to control it."

Rhea gritted her teeth and tried again, her hand tightening around her wand. But before she could attempt the spell, a voice cut through the air.

"Selwyn, it's not about brute force," Draco's voice drawled from a few desks over. He leaned back lazily in his chair, his own feather floating steadily above him. "You'll burn out if you keep trying to muscle through it."

Rhea shot him a glare, irritated by the interruption. "I know how to do it."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Do you?"

Rhea's frustration boiled over. Without thinking, she flicked her wand sharply in Draco's direction, intending to give him a taste of his own arrogance. But instead of casting a harmless charm, her magic surged unexpectedly, sending a bolt of energy across the room.

Draco's chair tipped backward, and he caught himself just before hitting the floor, his expression turning from smug to startled. The rest of the class turned to watch, and a few students stifled laughter.

Rhea froze, her heart pounding. She hadn't meant to actually hit him with anything. She had no idea where that burst of power had come from, and the last thing she needed was to get into trouble with Professor Flitwick.

But instead of looking angry, Draco stood up slowly, brushing off his robes and giving her an amused look. His grey eyes gleamed with something almost like admiration.

"Well, that's one way to get my attention," he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Rhea felt her face flush, unsure whether to be embarrassed or triumphant. Before she could respond, Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and addressed the class.

"Let's focus on the task at hand, everyone!" he said, though his eyes lingered on Rhea for a moment. "Non-verbal spells are tricky, but with practice, I'm sure you'll all get there."

The rest of the class passed uneventfully, but Rhea couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. There had been something raw and uncontrolled about the magic she had used, something she hadn't expected. And Draco's reaction had only made her more confused.

That evening, Rhea found herself once again in the library, determined to catch up on her studies. The quiet of the room was comforting, a stark contrast to the chaos of the day. She sat at a table near the back, surrounded by stacks of books on advanced Charms and Transfiguration.

As she flipped through the pages of a particularly dense book on non-verbal spells, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up, half-expecting to see a professor or one of her classmates, but instead, she saw Draco Malfoy standing in front of her, his expression unreadable.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, though his tone made it clear that he wasn't really asking.

Rhea hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure."

Draco sat down across from her, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he pulled out his own book. For a while, they sat in silence, the only sound the occasional turning of pages. Rhea tried to focus on her studies, but she could feel Draco's presence like a weight in the air between them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Draco spoke.

"You've got potential, you know," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "That spell you cast earlier—it wasn't just luck."

Rhea looked up from her book, surprised by the compliment. "I didn't mean to do it."

Draco smirked. "That's what makes it interesting. You weren't trying, but the magic still responded. That kind of raw power isn't something everyone has."

Rhea frowned, unsure of how to respond. "I don't even know how I did it."

Draco leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. "That's the point. You're holding yourself back because you're afraid of losing control. But magic is about control and instinct. You have to let go, trust yourself."

Rhea swallowed, feeling a knot of tension in her chest. Draco's words struck a chord with her, but she wasn't sure if she could take his advice. She had always been cautious, always afraid of pushing too far and failing.

"I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco's smirk faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "You can. You just need to stop caring so much about what everyone else thinks."

Rhea stared at him, unsure of what to make of this version of Draco. He wasn't mocking her, and he wasn't being condescending. Instead, he seemed almost... genuine.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice quiet but direct.

Draco's gaze flickered, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. "Because I know what it's like to feel like you're not good enough. To feel like you don't belong."

Rhea's breath caught in her throat. She had never expected Draco Malfoy, of all people, to admit to feeling out of place. He always seemed so confident, so sure of himself. But now, sitting across from her in the dim light of the library, he seemed more human than she had ever imagined.

"I didn't think you cared about what other people thought," she said, her voice soft.

Draco shrugged, his eyes darkening slightly. "I don't. Not anymore. But it took me a long time to get there."

The weight of his words hung between them, and for the first time, Rhea felt like she was seeing the real Draco—the one hidden beneath the layers of arrogance and coldness.

For a long moment, they just sat there, the silence between them no longer awkward, but comfortable. It was as if, in that moment, they had reached some kind of unspoken understanding.

But before Rhea could say anything else, the library doors creaked open, and a group of students walked in, breaking the spell that had settled over them. Draco stood up abruptly, his usual mask of indifference slipping back into place.

"I'll see you in Potions tomorrow," he said, his voice cool and detached once more.

Rhea nodded, watching as he walked away, her mind racing with questions she wasn't sure she wanted answers to.

As the library grew quiet once again, she leaned back in her chair, her thoughts still spinning. Draco Malfoy was an enigma—a puzzle she wasn't sure she could solve.

But one thing was certain: her time at Hogwarts was becoming more complicated by the day.