Mattheo was thoroughly high, and his elevated mood was evident to everyone in the Great Hall. Despite his best efforts to maintain some semblance of composure, he couldn’t help himself from erupting into peals of laughter. The source of his amusement? You had just spilled a generous amount of pumpkin juice, and it was like a switch had been flipped for Mattheo. “You’re so fucking stupid…” he managed between fits of giggles, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained mirth.

You glared at him as you tried to deal with the mess. The pumpkin juice had splashed onto your robe, and you were desperately trying to blot it away with a napkin. “You laughed motherfucker,” you said sharply, rolling your eyes in frustration.

Mattheo, trying to save face, attempted to deny it. “No, I didn’t…” he insisted, but his laughter bubbled up again, making his denial laughable.

“Yes, you did, Mattie!” you shot back, irritation evident in your voice. As you pulled out your wand, you could barely contain your exasperation. With a flick and a muttered spell, you dried the pumpkin juice from your robe, the stain vanishing with a puff of magic.

Mattheo, still caught in his haze of amusement, looked at you with wide, unfocused eyes. He ran a hand through his tousled curls, a look of sheer bewilderment on his face. “Geez, I’m losing it…”

You sighed deeply, knowing that the rest of the night was going to be an exercise in patience. Managing Mattheo’s antics was going to be your job for the foreseeable future. “Oh, you’re losing it big time,” you said, your voice heavy with resignation. As you glanced around the bustling Great Hall, you realized that keeping Mattheo out of trouble would require more than just a bit of patience—it would demand constant vigilance. The evening was far from over, and it seemed you’d be playing the role of caretaker for the duration of the night.