Before anyone realised, it was exam week. The school was alive with the buzz of anxious students scrambling to cram in last-minute reviews and revisions. The classrooms were filled with the hum of nervous energy, the kind of tension that could only come from knowing that your entire performance—your future—would be decided within a few short days. The pressure weighed especially heavily on Philips House, where the outcome of our meticulously planned study groups would either cement our success or leave us scrambling to salvage our pride.

The atmosphere in the common rooms was a mix of determination and dread. Lila Hart, who had taken on the role of organising everything, was a whirlwind of energy, motivating everyone to push through. Her optimism, always contagious, had been the glue that held our efforts together. Despite my natural inclination to avoid the spotlight, I found myself constantly roped into her enthusiasm during the sessions.

"We'll ace this together, right?" Lila would say, flashing that radiant smile of hers that made it hard for anyone to argue, even if they wanted to. I preferred to stay on the sidelines, but she was relentless. She would pull me into discussions, making sure I contributed when she could sense my reluctance.

During the week of exams, the air in the classrooms was thick with focus. Every desk was surrounded by the scratch of pens, the flipping of pages, and the occasional rustle of paper. Even Dan, who normally seemed disinterested in group dynamics, was unusually serious, his gaze unwavering as he worked through his exam. The quiet hum of concentration filled the air, and for a brief moment, everything else seemed to fade.

The exams ended, and a collective breath was held. But for Philips House, the true test lay ahead: the results. The stakes felt even higher now that we had all invested so much. We had worked together, yes, but how would that fare in the face of actual grades?

When the results were finally posted, our collective breath released all at once. The cheers that erupted in our common room were deafening.

"We did it!" someone cried, the disbelief in their voice clear as the scores were read.

Lila stood in the centre of it all, a calm presence amidst the chaos, though her smile was just as bright. She hadn't sought out the credit—she rarely did. And yet, everyone seemed to flock to her, showering her with praise.

"Lila, you're amazing!" Selene said, her arms around Lila's shoulders in a quick hug.

"Couldn't have done it without you," Finn added, his usual laid-back attitude now replaced with a sincere appreciation.

"Seriously, you're the best!" Rowan echoed, grinning widely.

Lila accepted the praise with a modest smile, but the shine in her eyes told me she understood the significance of the moment. For a brief instant, it felt like everything revolved around her.

I leaned against the wall, observing the scene, a little detached but oddly curious. I had played a part, sure—my role was just... more discreet. The group had done well, and Lila was at the heart of it, but I couldn't help but wonder how long this success would last. Expectations always followed success, and with expectations came pressure. I was interested to see how she would carry this weight.

As the cheers faded, Lila's eyes caught mine. She gave me a subtle nod, acknowledging me in a way that was both knowing and appreciative. I returned the nod Then, as the room continued to buzz with excitement, I slipped away, deciding to let the chaos settle around me.

Later that evening, after the celebration had wound down, Lila and I found ourselves walking side by side toward the garden path. The sound of distant laughter still echoed in the background, but the energy had mellowed into a quieter, more reflective mood. Lila's steps were light but purposeful, like she knew where she was going but didn't need to say it.

She stopped by a bench, the lanterns lining the path casting warm, soft glows that illuminated the neat hedges and trimmed flowers. She turned to me and gestured toward the bench. "Sit with me?" she asked, her tone casual but with a sense of invitation.

I nodded and followed her, sitting at one end of the bench. She took the other. For a while, we simply sat in silence, the quiet hum of the night wrapping around us.

Eventually, Lila broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. "You know, none of this would've been possible without you."

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I glanced at her, raising a brow. "I think you're giving me too much credit. You were the one who organised everything."

She shook her head, her blonde hair shimmering in the lantern light. "No, Luck. You played a part in all of this. Without what you did, we wouldn't have passed the exams like we did."

I leaned back slightly, curious. "And what exactly did I do?"

Lila turned to face me fully, her expression serious yet warm. "I'm not sure how you managed it, but I know it wasn't just luck." She hesitated before continuing. "I think I understand you now; you don't just sit quietly while things happen. You're always looking ahead, always thinking two steps ahead."

I gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. "Maybe I just have more faith in people than you think. Miria led the study groups well, and everyone put in the effort. Isn't that enough?"

Lila tilted her head, not buying it. "You can't fool me, Luck. You didn't just 'sit back' and watch. You're too clever for that. You always know more than you let on."

I sighed, a bit exasperated, but I figured it was pointless to hide it anymore. "Alright. Fine," I muttered. "I found a way to leverage the school's own system. Mrs. Nyx once mentioned that you can buy anything if you have enough points. So, I bought a list of questions that were ranked by likelihood to appear on the exam."

Lila's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, you bought the exam questions?"

I shook my head. "Not the actual questions. But a list that ranked the most probable ones based on past tests—if I were to give the actual test, no one would learn. It wasn't perfect, but it gave us a good idea of where we were weakest. I didn't want to risk everyone failing, so I used my points to get us that advantage."

She stared at me for a moment, the weight of my words settling in. Finally, she let out a soft whistle, clearly impressed. "That's... kind of smart. Risky, but brilliant. How did you even know to look for that?"

I leaned back, my gaze fixed ahead. "I observe. I pay attention. People leave clues if you know where to look. The school encourages resourcefulness, so it wasn't a stretch to think something like that would exist. I just had to confirm it."

Lila shook her head, a mix of amazement and disbelief on her face. "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"No point in complicating things," I replied. "If too many people knew, it would've raised suspicions. The study groups did most of the work—I just gave us a small push."

Lila sat back, taking it all in, her expression thoughtful. "You know, you could've just done what everyone else did—hope the study groups were enough. But you went out of your way to help, even if it meant spending your own points."

I looked over at her, a rare hint of something softer in my eyes. "It was a practical decision. If we failed, it would reflect badly on everyone, including me."

She nodded slowly, her voice quiet but sincere. "Well... thank you. Seriously. You didn't have to do that, but you did."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. "You're welcome," I muttered, not quite used to such direct gratitude. The silence between us felt comfortable, even if a bit heavy.

After a beat, Lila spoke again, her tone teasing. "For someone who claims to hate attention, you sure know how to make an impact."

I raised an eyebrow, letting a small smile tug at the corner of my lips. "Let's keep that between us."

She laughed softly, the sound light and free. "Deal."

Luck returned to his dorm room, the door creaking open as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of the room greeted him—stale air mixed with the faint smell of ink and paper from the study sessions. Dan was lying on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling with his usual detached expression.

"You back?" Dan mumbled, barely moving, his voice flat as ever.

"Yeah," Luck replied, kicking off his shoes and tossing his bag onto his desk. He glanced over at Dan, who seemed completely unbothered by the world.

After a moment, Luck took a few steps closer. "You going to any study groups?"

Dan didn't even shift his gaze, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "There aren't any study groups in my house," he said with a sigh, as if the idea were a distant thought. "Besides, I don't really need them."

Luck tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're wrong," he said, his voice casual but sharp. "There are study groups in your house."

Dan finally turned his head to look at Luck, raising an eyebrow. "Really? I don't think I've seen anything about them."

Luck's smirk grew slightly. "Maybe that's because you weren't invited to them."

Dan blinked, clearly caught off guard by the suggestion. "What do you mean by that?"

Luck shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just saying, if you were a little more involved with people from your house, you might have noticed. Not everyone gets the memo." He let the statement linger in the air for a moment before adding, "But then again, you never were the type to put yourself out there, huh?"

Dan let out a quiet scoff and rolled back over, muttering, "I'm not interested in that kind of stuff anyway."

Luck didn't press the matter further. "Just making an observation," he said, his tone unreadable as he moved to sit at his desk.

Dan stayed silent for a moment before speaking again, his voice quieter. "I still don't see why I need to be part of their study groups."

"Maybe not," Luck said, his voice casual again. "But being part of things doesn't hurt. You might find it useful."

Dan didn't respond immediately, and the room fell into the usual stillness, with only the distant sounds of the school drifting through the walls.