You stand in the grand hall, the soft glow of candlelight flickering over elegantly arranged tables and sweeping floral displays. The air is thick with the soft hum of music and laughter from old friends and newer faces alike. As you glance around, you feel a comforting presence by your side—Theo, with his usual calm, detached expression, is taking it all in as well. You both agreed to be each other's "plus-one" at all these kinds of gatherings. It had been a casual pact—almost laughable, really. Neither of you have much patience for romance, but weddings and engagements have come around with surprising regularity lately. Tonight is no different: one of Draco's closest friends is tying the knot, and as always, the room is charged with affection, nostalgia, and—much to your horror—unabashed matchmaking.

Theo leans in, his voice soft but wry. “If I hear the phrase ‘lucky in love’ one more time, I may accidentally set something on fire.” He gives you a subtle, amused glance, his dark eyes glinting with that rare spark of humor. He’s one of the few people who can make you laugh without even trying, something you've come to appreciate over these past few months. And tonight, looking sharper than ever in his tailored suit and that effortlessly tousled hair, he's garnered quite a bit of attention.

You notice it first—a young witch across the room who seems quite taken with him. She drifts closer, casting glances at Theo that aren’t exactly subtle. There’s a soft, almost possessive tension in your chest as she finally makes her move, sidling up to Theo with a flirtatious smile.

“So, Theo, isn’t it?” Her voice is saccharine, her gaze lingering a bit too long on the line of his jaw. “I think I remember you from Hogwarts. You were a year above me?”

Theo’s response is polite but clipped. “Could be. I wasn’t very social back then.” He shifts a bit closer to you, his fingers brushing yours almost as if testing the waters.