The Slytherin first-years filed into the dungeon classroom for their first Potions lesson. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and faint traces of old ingredients—wormwood, asphodel, and something sharper, almost metallic.

Harry took a seat, leaning back in his chair with an easy confidence that made the other students glance at him curiously. Theo, sliding into the seat beside him, watched him out of the corner of his eye, amusement flickering in his gaze.

Snape swept into the room, black robes billowing, and the usual hush fell. He stopped at the front of the class, dark eyes scanning the students before settling on Harry.

The tension was immediate—everyone had heard about Snape's hatred of James Potter. But Harry met the professor's gaze with something unexpected.

Curiosity.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Mr. Potter," he drawled, "I expect you to have inherited your father's reckless disregard for the rules."

Harry tilted his head. "That would be an interesting assumption, sir, considering you've never actually met me before."

A few students sucked in a breath. Even Draco looked impressed at Harry's nerve. Theo, on the other hand, simply smirked. Clever, he thought. Very clever.

Snape's lip twitched, but instead of the sharp reprimand everyone expected, he said, "Is that so?"

Harry gave a casual shrug. "I'd like to think I judge people based on my own experience with them, rather than their last name." He smiled, a little too sharp. "Wouldn't you agree, Professor?"

The room was deathly silent. Then, to everyone's shock, Snape let out a quiet hmm of approval.

"A rare trait in a wizard," he said smoothly. "Perhaps you are not as insufferable as your father." He turned to the rest of the class. "Let us hope the rest of you are capable of such independent thought."

Theo leaned back in his chair, watching Harry with open amusement. His Harry, sharp-tongued and unpredictable, had just earned Snape's approval.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

As Snape began the lesson, Theo let his fingers drum lightly against the table, gaze flickering to Harry.

Mine, he thought.

And soon, Harry would see it too.

The lesson moved on, but Theo barely paid attention. He already knew the theory. What interested him wasn't the potion Snape was demonstrating—it was Harry.

Harry, who leaned forward slightly as Snape spoke, green eyes sharp with interest. Harry, who wasn't taking notes like the others but was clearly absorbing every word. Harry, who didn't flinch under Snape's scrutiny but instead seemed to enjoy the challenge of it.

Theo smirked. He wasn't the only one who had noticed.

Draco shot Theo a knowing glance, barely suppressing a grin. Pansy whispered something to Blaise, who chuckled under his breath. The entire Slytherin first-year group had caught onto the fact that Theo Nott—silent, composed, calculating Theo—was utterly fixated on their newest housemate.

And the best part? Harry was oblivious.

Snape strode between the rows of desks, hands clasped behind his back. "Potter," he said suddenly, stopping beside Harry's cauldron. "What would happen if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry didn't hesitate. "You'd get the Draught of Living Death, sir."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Snape's eyes. "Correct." He glanced at the others. "Take note—Potter seems to possess more intelligence than most of you."

Draco stiffened, clearly annoyed, but Harry only smirked. "I read ahead," he said, as if that explained everything.

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Did you?"

Harry's grin widened, cheeky and sharp. "What can I say? I like to be prepared."

Theo let out a quiet chuckle. Of course he does.

Snape gave Harry a long, considering look. "Interesting." Then, without another word, he turned back to the front of the room.

The moment Snape's attention shifted, Pansy leaned over. "Are we sure he's not part Slytherin royalty?" she whispered.

Blaise smirked. "If he is, Theo might actually combust."

Theo ignored them, keeping his focus on Harry.

By the time the lesson ended, Snape had granted Slytherin ten points—for Harry's thorough understanding of potion ingredients, as he had put it. That had never happened before. Snape didn't give out points easily, and certainly not for first-years.

As they left the dungeon, Draco muttered, "Alright, that was unsettling."

Pansy grinned. "You mean the part where Snape likes him?"

"No," Draco said darkly. "The part where Potter knew exactly how to get on his good side. That was deliberate."

Theo, walking beside Harry, let out a quiet laugh. "You're smarter than they expected."

Harry shot him a sly look. "And you expected it?"

Theo met his gaze, slow and deliberate. "Oh, I knew from the start."

Harry hummed in amusement. "Good. I'd hate to be underestimated."

Theo watched as Harry walked ahead toward the common room, his confidence easy and unshaken.

The others saw an intelligent, sharp-witted new Slytherin.

Theo saw something else entirely.

Mine.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual that evening, the fire casting flickering green light against the stone walls. The first-years had claimed a corner of the room, Draco lounging on one of the high-backed chairs while Pansy and Blaise occupied the nearby sofa. Harry had taken the armrest of the couch, legs stretched out like he owned the place.

Theo, as always, sat nearby, watching.

It was becoming a pattern, one the rest of the Slytherins found both amusing and unsettling. Theo Nott, the quiet, observant heir of a wealthy pureblood family, was interested in Harry Potter. And not just in the casual way most of Hogwarts was.

No, Theo's fixation ran deeper.

And yet, Harry didn't seem to notice.

"So," Draco said, twirling his wand between his fingers. "How exactly did you manage that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Manage what?"

Draco scoffed. "Snape. He actually likes you."

Harry smirked. "What can I say? I have a certain charm."

Pansy snorted. "Please, Potter. Snape doesn't like anyone."

Harry shrugged. "I just gave him what he wanted."

Blaise tilted his head. "And what's that?"

Harry smirked, eyes glinting in the firelight. "Respect. Intelligence. And the ability to think for myself."

The room went quiet for a moment, processing that.

Then, Draco groaned. "I hate that you're actually right."

Theo chuckled, finally speaking. "Of course he's right." His voice was smooth, laced with amusement. "Harry knows how to play the game."

Harry glanced at him, intrigued. "You think this is a game?"

Theo held his gaze. "Isn't it?"

Harry tilted his head, considering. Then he grinned, slow and knowing. "I suppose it is."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Merlin help us, there are two of them now."

Pansy snickered. "No, Theo's worse. At least Harry pretends to be normal."

Harry smirked at Theo. "Is that true? Are you worse than me?"

Theo leaned forward slightly, just enough that only Harry could hear him. "You'll find out soon enough."

Harry blinked, and for the first time, he felt it—the weight of Theo's attention, the sharp edge of something possessive lurking beneath his amusement.

But then Theo leaned back, face unreadable once more.

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, but if Theo had a game to play, well…

Harry was more than ready to win.