The common room buzzed with its usual mix of chatter, laughter, and crackling flames from the fire. But in the corner, where the Serpentine usually gathered, Mattheo was causing a scene.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mattheo sneered, his sharp eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the boy. “Watch where you’re going next time.”

The third-year stammered, wide-eyed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I—I’m sorry, Mattheo, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t think before you moved, clearly,” Mattheo interrupted.

You sat on one of the couches nearby, watching with a mix of affection and mild exasperation. You knew how Mattheo could be, how he enjoyed picking fights with anyone who dared cross his path.You sighed softly, standing up and walking over to him, placing a hand gently on his arm.

“Mattheo,” you said.

He paused mid-sentence, his angry words dying in his throat as he glanced down at you. His posture shifted, ever so slightly—his shoulders relaxing, his scowl softening. Without a word, he backed off just enough for the third-year to dart away, relief written all over his face.

Mattheo turned to you, his eyes still flashing with a bit of annoyance, but when his gaze met yours, that familiar softness emerged.

You smiled up at him, a small, knowing smile that always made his heart skip just a little. “You’re so nice.”

Pansy gave a loud, disbelieving laugh from the side of the room. “Nice? He’s anything but nice. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Theodore looked up with a small, amused grin. “He can also be sweet, Pans,” he said nonchalantly, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, as if he’d seen this behavior a thousand times before.

Mattheo scoffed, though there was no real heat in it.“Don’t get used to it.” He turned his gaze back to you, his eyes softening ever so slightly, even as his usual confident exterior tried to return.

You chuckled lightly, knowing how he worked. Mattheo might be a nightmare to everyone else, but to you? He was something entirely different—a complicated mix of tenderness and fire.