Daisy sat at the far end of the school courtyard, her notebook open but untouched. The late afternoon sun was slipping lower, casting long shadows across the grass, but she wasn’t paying attention to the fading light. Her mind was still replaying the way Harry had looked at her earlier that day — not in his usual smug, smirking way, but in that quiet, unreadable way that made her chest feel oddly tight.

She traced the edge of her pencil against the page, telling herself it didn’t mean anything. Harry had been decent to her once or twice lately; that didn’t mean he’d suddenly changed. People didn’t change overnight. Especially...