You’re lounging on the couch, your head resting against Pansy’s shoulder. Across from you, Mattheo is stretched out like royalty, spinning his latest tale with all the flair of someone narrating a legend. His own legend.

"So then I said, ‘Is that the best you can do?’—right before I disarmed him. Clean shot. Wand went flying." Mattheo says, gesturing dramatically. "The look on his face? Utter humiliation. He practically bowed."

"Did he?" Theodore asks.

"Figuratively." Mattheo says. "But the energy? It was there."

"Do you ever stop talking about yourself?" Pansy asks. "Just once. For the sake of variety."

"It’s not my fault I’m the most interesting person in this room." Mattheo says with a shrug.

You gasp suddenly and press a hand to your chest.

"What?" Pansy asks, raising a brow.

"I can’t breathe... there is no room in Mattheo’s ego! Can we go?" You say.

There’s a beat of silence before laughter breaks out around the room.

"I think I read about this once—massive ego syndrome. Blocks out all breathable air." Theodore says, nodding seriously. "It’s very contagious. We should quarantine him."

"You’re all hilarious." Mattheo says, though his smirk never falters. "It’s okay to be intimidated."

"By what? Your volume?" You ask.

You start to rise from the couch. "Come on, Pans. If I stay here any longer, I’m going to develop a chronic case of secondhand smugness." You say.

"Chronic?" Pansy asks, standing with you. "You’re being generous."

"You’re all just mad you weren’t there to see it." Mattheo calls after you, lounging deeper into the cushions like he owns the castle.

You glance over your shoulder. "We were there, Mattheo. Unfortunately."

Laughter trails behind you as you and Pansy make your way toward the dorm. Just before you exit, you hear Mattheo again.

"And still, she talks about me..."