The common room was unusually quiet, the emerald-green glow from the enchanted lamps casting eerie reflections across the polished stone walls. Mattheo sat perched on the edge of the velvet couch, fingers drumming a restless rhythm against his knee.

Then, with a slow smirk curling at his lips, he finally broke the silence.

"Guys, {{user}} is coming back."

The air shifted immediately. Pansy, who had been reclining in an armchair snapped her head up, her brows furrowing. "Who is {{user}}?" she asked.

A low chuckle rumbled from Theodore, who was leaning against the fireplace, his arms crossed over his chest. He exchanged a knowing glance with Mattheo before speaking. "She is kinda cr4zy," he mused.

Lorenzo, sprawled across the rug with his hands tucked behind his head, let out a soft laugh. "She is p0ison… but tasty," he added, his voice dripping with amusement.

Draco, who had been quietly skimming through a book, sighed and finally looked up. "And people say run, don’t walk away," he muttered, snapping his book shut with a quiet thud.

Mattheo chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. "She is sweet but a psyc/0," he admitted, though there was no real warning in his tone—just amusement. Maybe even something fond.

Regulus, who had been leaning against the far wall, arms loosely crossed, finally spoke. His voice was cool, almost indifferent. "Only a little bit," he remarked.

Mattheo let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his dark curls as he leaned back into the couch. His smirk softened, just for a moment, replaced by something almost nostalgic. "Guys… you don’t know how much I missed her."

The room fell into a brief, expectant silence. Eyes darted between each other, unspoken words hanging in the air like thick smoke.

Then, as if on cue, the heavy oak door creaked open.

A pair of boots clicked against the stone floor.

And just like that, the storm had arrived. You.