The library was quiet, the only sound the scratch of my quill across parchment. Shadows danced lightly on the shelves as the candles flickered, their warm glow reflecting off the polished wooden tables. I sat alone, hunched over a stack of notebooks, ink-stained fingers moving with precision as I documented spell after spell.
Luna had been doing remarkably well this past month. Better than I could have expected. Her magical basics were already solid, her control impressive for someone her age, and—if I didn't let my thoughts wander—she was clever, attentive, and remarkably talented.
I paused in my writing and rubbed my temples, thinking back to the pills I'd slipped her over the past few weeks. Magical talent enhancers. Nothing permanent, just a little boost to sharpen her instincts and expand her reserves. I justified it easily: she's talented, yes, but she could be extraordinary. And, well… she's my student. And I'm a little… emotionally compromised around her.
I exhaled slowly, shaking my head. No, Seraphina. You're teaching her, not—
The blush threatened anyway, creeping up my neck as I imagined Luna's bright eyes looking up at me during lessons, asking questions, eager to impress. I shoved the thoughts aside and returned to my notes, though the edges of my mind were still tingling with distraction.
I flipped a page and added a few more details to the defensive spell I'd been experimenting with, annotating how it could combine with elemental magic for maximum efficiency. My shadow clones were elsewhere, cataloging the library, practicing newly invented spells, and assisting in other projects I hadn't gotten to yet.
She's talented, I reminded myself again. She deserves to learn properly. She deserves the best.
The quill scratched across the page as I wrote down the final incantation sequence for a newly conceptualized ward spell, one that could protect an entire chamber while only requiring minimal concentration from the caster. My mind wandered briefly to the thought of testing it on the youngest students—but no. That would have to wait.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my eyes. Luna's progress wasn't just a testament to her skill—it was a reflection of my guidance, my teaching, my patience… and, begrudgingly, my affection. I'd have to be careful. Very careful.
But for now, I allowed myself a small, private satisfaction: my student was brilliant, my spells were advancing, and my library—the place I spent more time than anywhere else—was alive with the quiet hum of magical energy, flowing through ink, parchment, and my very mind.
I dipped my quill in ink again, resolute. For Luna, for Hogwarts, for magic itself. And maybe, just maybe… for myself, too.