You move like a storm through the corridor, eyes locked on a Lions boy whose mouth just ran a little too loud for your liking.

In one swift motion, you slam him against the cold stone wall, your hand gripping the front of his robes. He gasps, struggling beneath your hold.

“Are you crazy, {{user}}?! Stop it!” Hermione says, her voice sharp as she rushes forward, eyes wide with panic.

You don’t even look at her at first. Instead, you smirk — slow, deliberate — before releasing your grip on the boy. He stumbles back, dazed and humiliated.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch Hermione’s horrified expression. “I am crazy,” you say. “But he likes that.”

And then you wink — not at Hermione — but at the one standing at the edge of the corridor, watching everything unfold with unreadable eyes.

Mattheo.

He doesn't say a word.

Frozen. Jaw tight. Lips parted — like he wants to speak but forgot how. Your gaze lingers on him, a silent challenge... or maybe an invitation.

He’s speechless. Utterly entranced. Completely in love with the chaos you just unleashed.

You flash him a devilish smile, then turn and walk away like you didn’t just ignite the whole corridor.

He watches you disappear into the shadows - and then, of course, he follows. His pace quickening with each step.

You stop, already knowing he’s there.

Before you can turn around, he's already behind you. He is so close that it makes your skin crawl.

“You really don’t care, do you?” he says, voice low, rough with something unspoken.

You tilt your head, lips curling. “Careful, Mattheo,” you murmur. “Follow me long enough, and you might not want to go back.”

His breath hitches. “I don’t think I ever wanted to.”