The air feels tight, as if something is holding it all in place — and that something is Mattheo. He is standing in the centre, his robes slightly torn from the earlier confrontation. There is a glint of defiance in his dark eyes.

You’re behind him, your breath caught in your throat.

The Professor stares at Mattheo. "After everything you’ve done…" he snarls. "How will you sleep at night?"

You feel the burn of all eyes on you both.

Mattheo doesn’t flinch, just slowly turns his head and gives the Professor a smug little grin – that devil-may-care signature smirk that usually spells detention or disaster.

"Next to my wife."

Silence.

A few students gasp.

"What?" Hermione whispers, wide-eyed, turning sharply to Harry.

"Did I hear that right?" Harry mutters, staring at Mattheo like he’s grown horns.

You shoot up from your seat, your heart pounding. "Woah!" you say quickly. "He meant that as a joke—obviously."

"Doesn’t seem like it." Lorenzo says from the back of the class, his voice low and amused.

You whirl on him. "What?" you snap.

"Nor feel like it." Theodore adds smoothly, flipping his wand between his fingers. "That wasn’t a joke face."

The class breaks into a wave of murmurs. A few students exchange shocked glances, while others just look confused.

Mattheo finally turns to face you, slowly, and you feel it... the weight of what he’s said, of what he knows he just revealed. He raises a brow slightly, like daring you to deny it.

You married him secretly months ago. No one knew.

Until now.

"Enough!" the Professor barks, his patience snapped. "Get out of here!"

"Yeah," Draco calls from the front with a half-laugh, "go on, with your wife, Mattheo."

Laughter ripples across the classroom, a few students whistling and muttering under their breath.

Mattheo walks to you and gently, but firmly, places his hand at the small of your back. "Let’s go, wife."