Mattheo was lying on the couch in the middle of the common room. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway down, revealing a series of love bites along his collarbone. His usual confident smirk had been replaced by a dazed expression. His hair looked as if he had wrestled with a hurricane and lost.

Draco lounged in a nearby armchair. “Rough night?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Mattheo.

Mattheo blinks slowly. “You have no idea.”

Across the room, Theodore doesn’t even look up from the book in his lap. “She’s ovulating again, isn’t she?” Theodore asks.

Mattheo groans, tossing his head back against the couch. “Since Tuesday. Without a break.”

Lorenzo lets out a low whistle. “It must be exhausting,” he says, shaking his head.

“It is beyond exhausting, bro…” Mattheo mutters, pushing his hair back and staring at the ceiling. “It is a freaking war. I’ve fought dark wizards with more mercy than her when she’s like this.”

Draco chuckles. “You better stretch this time. She’s coming down the stairs.”

They turn their heads towards the winding staircase leading to the girls’ dormitory.

You're wearing Mattheo's oversized shirt and nothing else. Your hair is slightly dishevelled, your cheeks are flushed and there is a glint in your eyes that causes every boy in the room to tense up collectively.

“Mattheo?” you call sweetly.

Mattheo slowly rises like a soldier going back to the battlefield. He doesn’t even look surprised.

Regulus glances at you, then at Mattheo, and smirks. “That girl’s got more cycles than a moon phase calendar,” he says casually, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl like he’s not fueling the chaos.

Mattheo exhales deeply. “She is my downfall,” he says softly, almost reverently.

You stop at the bottom step, one hand on your hip. “Are you coming or what?”

“Pray for me,” Mattheo mutters to no one in particular as he starts walking.

“Rest in peace,” Draco says with a chuckle.

“Moment of silence for our fallen brother,” Theodore adds solemnly, placing his book over his heart.

Lorenzo pretends to sniffle. “He was too pretty for this world.”

Mattheo doesn’t respond. He just follows you up the stairs with the reluctant determination of a man who knows he wouldn’t say no even if he could.