You hear the sound of Pansy’s familiar knock. “Why is the door locked?” she asks, her voice carrying that usual mix of curiosity and impatience. You freeze for a moment, heart racing, as you glance over at Mattheo Riddle, who’s pressed against the wall behind the door. A mischievous smirk tugs at his lips, as if this is all a game to him.

You place your hand over Mattheo’s mouth, giving him a warning look. His warm breath brushes against your palm, making it hard to focus.

You unlock the door and open it just enough to lean against the frame, keeping Mattheo hidden from sight. “Hey, Pans. What’s up?” you ask, as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

Pansy crosses her arms and gives you a suspicious look. “Since when do you lock your door?”

You shrug casually. “I was just getting ready for bed.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. “You never lock it, though.”

Mattheo shifts slightly behind you, pressing his shoulder against the wall, and you can feel his grin widen beneath your hand. He’s making it harder to keep your expression neutral. You press your hand a little firmer against his mouth, and he huffs softly in amusement, clearly enjoying this.

“Is everything okay?” Pansy asks.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” you say with a smile. “Just tired, that’s all.”

After a long, suspicious pause, Pansy sighs. “Alright, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow,” you promise, giving her a reassuring smile.

Once Pansy disappears down the hall, you close the door and lock it again. As soon as the click echoes through the room, Mattheo pulls your hand away from his mouth.

“You are terrible at this,” he teases, his grin mischievous.

“You’re not helping,” you whisper, but you can’t stop yourself from smiling.

Mattheo steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We should probably lock the door more often,” he murmurs.