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Levi heard them before he saw them.
Not the kissing specifically. Voices, low and close together, coming from the alcove off the east corridor where students thought they couldn't be seen because the torches didn't reach that far. Ten years of teaching and he could identify the particular quality of that silence from thirty meters away.
He rounded the corner with his hands clasped behind his back, already prepared to take points.
Eren Yeager had his back against the wall and Mikasa's hands were at the front of his robes and they were, as he'd correctly identified, snogging.
Levi stopped.
Yeager saw him first. The boy went the color of a Gryffindor banner, which was impressive given how dark the corridor was, and made a sound that was not quite a word and stepped back and straightened his robes with the desperate energy of someone trying to look like nothing had been happening when something very clearly had been happening.
Mikasa turned around. She looked at him. Her eyes widened, just for a second, before her face settled back into its usual calm.
"Levi," she said.
"That’s Professor Ackerman for you," he said. "And it's after hours."
"Yes," she said.
He looked at Yeager, who had achieved a remarkable shade of red and was staring at a point approximately two feet above Levi's head with the focus of someone hoping that if he didn't make eye contact the situation might resolve itself.
Levi had known about Yeager for years. Not known him specifically, though he taught the boy in Defence class and found him occasionally capable when he wasn't being an idiot. He'd watched Mikasa in the corridors and at meals and in his classroom for six years and he wasn't blind. He knew exactly who this pesky, hotheaded boy was to her.
He looked at Yeager again. The boy had managed to meet his eyes now and was holding eye contact with the expression of someone who had decided that dignity was the only remaining option.
Levi looked back at Mikasa.
She looked back at him with the calm unreadable patience she'd had since she was four years old.
He exhaled through his nose.
"Normally," he said, "I'd take points."
Neither of them said anything.
"Gryffindor would be losing twenty." He looked at Yeager. "Minimum."
Yeager swallowed.
"I'm going to let this one slide." He looked at Mikasa. "This once." A pause. "And I'm telling your father."
Something moved across Mikasa's face. Not much. But something.
"Levi—"
"Professor."
"You don't have to—"
"I'll owl him tonight." He turned and walked back down the corridor. "Get back to your dormitories."
Behind him he heard nothing for a moment. Then Yeager's voice, low and slightly strangled: "He's going to tell your father?"
And Mikasa, quieter: "...start walking."
Levi turned the corner and allowed himself, briefly, the expression he'd been holding back.
Yeager. Of all the people. He didn't intend to tell her what he thought of that.
He did intend to owl her father. Not because it would amount to anything. But just because he could.
fin.