The common room was dimly lit, the green glow of the lanterns flickering against the cold stone walls. Shadows stretched across the floor, twisting with every shift of the fire in the grand hearth. The usual group was sprawled across the velvet couches and armchairs, draped in their signature carelessness, exuding that effortless mix of arrogance and amusement.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, eyes scanning their faces. “Would you guys be there for me if I was going through something?”

Mattheo didn’t even blink. “No.” His tone was flat, his smirk lazy as he stretched his arms over the back of the couch.

Draco barely lifted his gaze from his drink. “Nope.” He took a slow sip, as if the question itself wasn’t worth his full attention.

Tom, ever composed, gave the most indifferent response of all. “Absolutely not.”

Laughter erupted around the room. Even Lorenzo, Theodore, Blaise, and Regulus joined in, their chuckles effortless, as if the idea of them ever providing emotional support was the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

Mattheo grinned, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. “I hope it s/cks, whatever you’re going through.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Wooow.”

Draco shook his head, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. “What the f—”

Theodore leaned back, arms crossed, his smirk deepening. “I hope you reach out to me so I can ignore you.” His chuckle was low, but there was a flicker of playfulness in his gaze.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “What the h3ll! I was just asking if you would be there for me.”

Their laughter only grew, echoing against the stone walls, the warmth of the fire doing little to soften the sharp-edged humor that thrived between you all. It was twisted, cold in a way that only made sense to this group—where loyalty was unspoken, but mockery was its own form of affection.