The argument with your boyfriend Mattheo had happened the night before the final Quidditch match against Gryffindor—sharp words, raised voices, and then silence. He hadn’t apologized, and you weren’t about to let that slide.

So, you decided to mess with him a little bit

On the day of the match, you walked confidently into the stands wearing a bright red Gryffindor shirt—bold, unmistakable, and perfectly petty.

Mattheo was already in the air, circling with his team, when his eyes locked onto you. The moment he saw what you were wearing, his expression shifted instantly—rage tightening his jaw, his grip on the broom visibly stiffening mid-flight.

Despite it all, Slytherin won.

After the match, you made your way back to the Slytherin dorms, half-smirking to yourself—until a strong hand grabbed your arm and yanked you back into a quiet hallway.

You stumbled slightly, then looked up into a pair of furious eyes.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Mattheo demanded, his voice low and angry.