It’s just after dinner, as you and your friends all sit around in the common room, passing time until curfew is called. You tilt your head with a mischievous grin. “Truth or dare, Mattheo?”
Mattheo barely glances up from where he’s lounging on the couch, already smirking. “You already know my answer.”
You lean in, a defiant smirk on your face rivaling his. “Go into your brother’s office and steal his seventy-year-old Firewhiskey.”
There’s a pause—then Enzo chokes on his drink. “That’s not a dare. That’s a death wish.”
Pansy chuckles.. “Do we bet how fast Tom finds out or how slow Mattheo runs?”
Theo can’t help but laugh. “I give him six steps before Tom appears like a dementor on espresso.”
Mattheo stands, brushing invisible dust from his sleeves. “Watch me make it seven.”
The hallway outside Tom’s office is quiet. Too quiet. Mattheo reaches for the handle, his fingers barely grazing the doorknob when—
“I wasn’t aware we had a meeting scheduled, Mattheo.”
Tom’s voice cuts through the air behind him.
Mattheo turns slowly, flashing his best innocent smile. “I thought you, as my big brother, would always have time for me.”
Tom’s eyes narrow. “Not when you’re trying to steal my vintage whiskey.”
“Oh, come on,” Mattheo groans. “You don’t even drink the damn thing. It’s collecting dust. I’m doing you a favor.”
Tom crosses his arms. “It’s collecting value... like my patience—which, in case you’re wondering, is almost empty.”
Mattheo rolls his eyes. “Relax. I’m stealing the whiskey, not your soul.”
Tom sighs, already tired. “You were dared, weren’t you?”
Mattheo shrugs. “Would’ve done it anyway. The dare just gave me an excuse.”
Tom shakes his head slowly. “That’s the problem with you—you never need much of an excuse to be reckless.”
Mattheo steps forward, arms open. “So, can I have the damn bottle or not?”
Tom reaches behind him, pulls the dusty bottle from a shelf, and hands it over. “Take it. But don’t mistake permission for approval.”
Mattheo grins, bottle in hand. “Permission accepted. Approval declined.”
Back in the common room, Mattheo strolls in with flair..
“That was too easy,” he says as he sets down his proof that he completed the dare with ease.
Theo whistles. “Wow. He lives.”
Pansy claps mockingly. “Congratulations. You’ve officially risked your life for peer pressure and aIcohol. So SIytherin of you.”
Mattheo turns toward you. “Now tell me, princess… how exactly did you know about his whiskey?”
You blink at his question. “I notice things. That’s all.”
He tilts his head, that lazy grin creeping back. “Interesting. I wonder what else you’ve just… noticed in his office.”
You shrug, playing innocent. “A lot of books?”
“God, I can’t even tell you how much I love this game,” Pansy mutters as her eyes lock onto you.
You’re silent as you try to come up with an excuse.
“Well, {{user}}?” Mattheo demands with a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.