Divine Purity| T.N.

The familiar scent of brewing potions and aged parchment filled the dungeon as Astrea stirred the contents of her cauldron. Pansy, seated beside her, tapped her quill against her parchment, looking bored out of her mind.

"If Snape drones on any longer, I might hex myself just to get out of here," Pansy muttered under her breath.

"You're always trying to hex someone" Astrea huffed a quiet laugh, glancing toward the professor, who was currently explaining the subtle differences between a well-made Draught of Peace and an improperly brewed one.

Her mind, however, was elsewhere, flashing back to last night. To Theo, slumped on the couch in Draco's manor. To his tired eyes. To the letter he left her before the break.

She hadn't brought it up. Hadn't asked. And now, as she sat in class, she wondered if she should have.

A tap on her arm pulled her out of her thoughts. "You're burning it," Pansy whispered, nodding toward the cauldron.

Astrea blinked and quickly adjusted the flame beneath her potion, suppressing a sigh.

Later, in Divination, she found herself seated at her usual seat, fingers absentmindedly tracing the patterns on the old wooden desk. Theo's usual seat beside her was empty.

Not surprising.

Still, she couldn't help but feel that familiar sting of disappointment, even though she knew better. She had spent so much of break thinking about the letter he wrote her, the one that had left her with more questions than answers. It felt like a lifetime ago, but now, back at Hogwarts, it was creeping back into her mind.

The class went on, Professor Trelawney's airy voice floating through the incense-heavy room, but Astrea barely registered any of it.

~~~

By the time her last class ended, she was exhausted, mentally more than anything. When she stepped into her dorm, she expected to find Pansy, but the room was empty.

With a sigh, she changed into something more comfortable, a soft jumper and sweats, before grabbing a book and heading to the one place that had always managed to clear her mind.

The library.

It was quiet when she arrived, the warm glow of lanterns casting soft pools of light over the tables. She moved toward a corner, settling into a seat near the window, hoping, for once, that her thoughts would leave her alone.

Astrea was curled up in her chair, eyes scanning the words on the page in front of her, though she wasn't fully absorbing any of it.

A shadow moved in her peripheral vision. She glanced up just as Kenneth Towler passed by the aisle she was in, his gaze landing on her. A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite spin-the-bottle partner," he teased, stopping beside her table.

Astrea rolled her eyes but couldn't help the amused smile that followed. "I was wondering when you'd bring that up."

"What, the fact that I'm an exceptional kisser?" Kenneth quipped, pulling out the chair next to her and plopping down. "Wouldn't be very humble of me to mention, but since you brought it up..."

Astrea let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Oh, please, it was a game."

"Sure, but you didn't seem to mind too much," he shot back, his grin widening.

She nudged his arm playfully. "You're insufferable."

"I prefer 'charmingly persistent,' actually."

They fell into easy conversation, Kenneth making exaggerated claims about his talents and Astrea firing back with sarcastic remarks. It was light, effortless, something she hadn't realized she needed.