The SIytherin common room pulses with music, green lights flickering across the stone walls. You don't mean to draw attention, just moving with the beat, hips swaying, arms loose, but the moment Theo’s gaze catches you, he can't tear it away.

“Damn, she looks good out there,” Barty mutters beside him, eyes flicking from you to his friend.

Theo only shrugs, his jaw tightening. “If you say so.”

Barty chuckles into his glass, savoring the taste of his firewhisky. “You don’t mind if I ask her to dance, then?”

Theo scoffs too quickly. “Do whatever you want, Crouch. I honestly don’t give a fuck.”

Mattheo, leaning against the couch, smirks knowingly.

It doesn't take long before Barty is in front of you, hand outstretched. You raise a brow, but the bold tilt of his grin draws you in. Soon enough, his hands rest on your hips, guiding you into the rhythm as the two of you move together. A giggle slips past your lips at his boldness.

Then his lips brush yours, moving in time with the music, your laughter dissolving into the kiss.

From the corner, Mattheo doesn't bother hiding his grin as he glances at Theo, whose eyes burn holes into the dance floor. “You still don’t give a f*ck?” Mattheo teases.

Theo doesn't answer. His silence says more than words ever could, the clench of his jaw, the unholy grip on his glass, and most importantly, the way his gaze doesn't leave you...not even once.