She hadn’t expected them to treat her any differently. In fact, that would’ve made it worse—a reminder of what they’d given her, what she’d never have again. They’d gone back to coolly co-existing, hovering around one another, and only interacting when forced. Or at least, until she’d looked up at the Slytherin table last week, feeling hard eyes burning into her cheek. She’d met the gaze of Blaise, who hadn’t dropped his gaze when she caught him looking. Instead, he’d run a thumb across his bottom lip—staring all the while—and watched her cheeks blaze.