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Hogwarts had never felt so stifling.
The chill of the early morning still clung to the castle walls, weaving through the corridors like a restless ghost. The Great Hall was alive with the usual symphony of clinking cutlery, murmured conversations, and the occasional outburst of laughter—but none of it could cut through the thick, suffocating weight that settled in Y/N's chest the moment they stepped inside.
Because he was here.
Callum Avery.
Lounging at the Slytherin table, arms folded across his chest, wearing that infuriating smirk that made their stomach turn. He wasn't eating. He wasn't talking. He was just watching.
Waiting.
Like he had known they'd eventually come in.
Y/N's fingers curled into fists at their sides, nails pressing into their palms. The urge to turn on their heel and walk right back out was overwhelming, but it was too late.
The moment their foot crossed the threshold, his gaze latched onto them.
Damn it.
Their entire body went rigid, but they forced themselves forward, weaving through the sea of students toward their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. If they could just make it—if they could sit down before he—
"Y/N."
The voice sliced through the noise of the hall like a blade against glass.
Y/N's stomach dropped.
Nearby students paused mid-bite, conversations slowing as heads turned toward the source of the voice. The Great Hall remained bustling, but it didn't matter—his words had already found them, curling around them like a noose.
They kept walking.
Ignored him.
Pretended, for one fleeting second, that they hadn't heard—
"Y/N."
Louder.
Sharper.
More confident.
Their jaw clenched.
Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't react. You can pretend you didn't hear—
"Been avoiding me, have you?"
Y/N barely had time to process before Callum was suddenly there.
Stepping into their path like he had planned it perfectly.
They stopped.
A muscle in their jaw ticked, but they refused to look at him. "Wow. Observant."
