In the common room, the firelight flickered against dark green walls, creating a cozy atmosphere. Regulus lounged in an armchair, quietly conversing with Lorenzo, while Draco and Mattheo debated Qu/dd/tch strategies nearby. Theodore, seated on the sofa, pretended to read but subtly listened to the others' discussions.

The door creaked open, and all heads turned toward you as you stepped inside. You were wearing Regulus’s hoodie, the dark fabric oversized and swallowing you in its soft folds. The faint scent of his cologne still clung to it, and you felt a small thrill of comfort and defiance as you met his gaze.

“Merlin’s beard,” Mattheo drawled. “Isn’t that your hoodie, Regulus? Looks better on her, if you ask me.”

Draco snickered, his brows arching as he glanced between you and Regulus. "Careful, Mattheo. Regulus might hex you for that one.”

Regulus, however, wasn’t laughing. His gray eyes were sharp and unwavering as they locked onto you. “Take it off.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What?”

Regulus stood, his movements deliberate as he crossed the room toward you. “The hoodie. Take it off,” he repeated, his voice softer now but no less commanding.

“Why?” you asked, your tone light, though your heart was beating faster. “It’s warm. And comfortable. And…” you shrugged, “I like it.”

Draco let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama. “She’s got a point. It does suit her.”

“Not the point,” Regulus shot back. He stopped in front of you, towering just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore. “It’s mine.”

Mattheo’s grin widened, and he leaned closer to Theodore. “Do you think he’ll wrestle her for it?” he whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

You couldn’t help but smirk, your fingers tugging at the hem of the hoodie. “Well, if you want it back so badly…” you teased, lifting the fabric slightly, “why don’t you come and get it?”

The air grew thick with tension as Regulus’s gaze darkened. “Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.