Mattheo lies stretched out on one of the sofas, while Draco sits near the fire. Theodore is lounging in an armchair with his legs thrown over one side and a book open on his chest. Blaise sits cross-legged on the rug, talking quietly to Regulus, while Lorenzo flips through a magazine.

The door opens and all eyes shift as you step inside. “Sorry I’m late, guys… I was studying with Harry,” you say, slinging your bag onto the nearest chair and brushing your hair out of your face.

There’s a pause.

Mattheo’s eyes narrow. "Where?” he asks.

Theodore’s book slides off his chest. “Who?!” he exclaims, sitting up straight.

Lorenzo nearly drops his magazine. “You been where?” he demands, voice half-incredulous, half-offended.

Draco’s head whips toward you so fast you’d think someone cursed him. “With who?!” he spits, as though the word itself tastes sour.

You blink at all of them, then exhale dramatically, rolling your eyes. “You sound like a bunch of owls, guys,” you say flatly, making your way to the empty spot beside Mattheo.

Regulus lets out a low snort, shaking his head.

Blaise mutters, “She’s got a point,” but he’s clearly holding back a grin.

Mattheo leans forward. “But why Harry, of all people? You know that’s basically treason, right?”

“He needed help with Potions,” you reply, shrugging. “And I’m good at Potions. End of story.”

“Since when do we do charity work for Lions?” Theodore says, raising an eyebrow.

Draco looks personally offended. "He has a tutor, doesn’t he? Or are you trying to replace Hermione now?”

“I’m not trying to replace anyone,” you say calmly. “He just asked. I said yes. It’s not that deep.”

Lorenzo leans back, folding his arms. “So, let me get this straight. You skipped our group study session for Harry, and we’re just supposed to be fine with it?”

“Technically, it wasn’t a group study session,” you reply, smirking. “It was six boys arguing over who has the better jawline while pretending to study.”

“That’s not true,” Mattheo says quickly, sitting up straighter. “I have the better jawline, so there’s no argument.”

Regulus finally speaks. “Did you at least hex him for fun when he got a question wrong?”

“No,” you say, smiling sweetly. “But I did correct his cauldron temperature, and he was very grateful.”

A collective groan echoes through the room.

Draco slumps back in his chair. “I’m going to be sick.”

Blaise raises a hand. “I just want to say, for the record, I always knew you had a soft spot for lost puppies.”

You give him a mock-glare. “Careful. I might start tutoring you next.”

“Merlin forbid,” Blaise mutters, sipping his tea.

Mattheo leans closer. “If he tries to kiss you over his textbook, I’ll duel him. Just so we’re clear.”

You laugh. “Please. I’d hex him into next week if he tried.”

As you curl up on the sofa with a cushion and take out your notes, Mattheo smirks. “Just... don’t make a habit of it, yeah? The owl noises will only get worse.”