It’s early in the morning and people are heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. You and Mattheo walk together his hand loosely around you. Luna approaches and starts chatting away like she doesn’t know who’s she’s just came up to.

Luna tilts her head, her usual dreamy expression softening with concern. “Um… I can send you the address if you want,” she offers gently, pulling her wand from her pocket as if she’s ready to write it down.

Mattheo stands beside you, his arm resting loosely around your waist, silent but watchful. You can feel the heat of him against your side — grounding, but also making your pulse quicken. He’s not looking at Luna, not really. His gaze is fixed somewhere far off, that familiar calculating glint in his eyes.

You shake your head before he can even open his mouth. “He didn’t bring his phone,” you explain quickly, speaking for him because you know he won’t bother to. Your voice is steady, but inside, there’s a quiet coil of tension you can’t quite shake.

Luna hesitates, glancing between you both. “Oh… well, I can still give you the address,” she says, her tone light but curious.

You can feel Mattheo’s fingers press a little tighter against your hip. You keep your eyes on Luna, but your words come sharper this time. “No need.”

Luna’s brow furrows slightly. “Can’t hurt.”

Your gaze flickers to Mattheo for just a second — that silent exchange where neither of you needs to speak to know what the other is thinking. Then you turn back to Luna, voice lower now. “It might hurt.”

There’s a pause. Luna studies you for a beat longer, her curious blue eyes seeming to weigh your meaning, before she finally gives a small, knowing nod and lets the subject drop.

Mattheo doesn’t say a word as you both turn away, but you feel his hand slide from your waist to your lower back, guiding you forward — a quiet, protective gesture that says everything he didn’t.