Draco and Mattheo are in the middle of a heated argument in the middle of the common room. You watch nervously from the side, your heart racing. You know how petty Mattheo can be, how far he’ll go just to prove a point. You’re silently praying he won’t mention it—the one thing that could ruin everything. The one thing that happened because you were too weak to tell him no.

Mattheo’s voice cuts through the tension like a knife. “You really think {{user}} would stay true to you?”

Your heart sinks into your stomach, a wave of nausea rolling over you. Mattheo’s eyes flicker to you for a brief moment, a confident smirk playing on his lips. You subtly shake your head “no,” silently pleading with him to stop before it’s too late.

Draco scoffs, arrogance radiating off of him. “Oh, please, Riddle. As if my {{user}} would ever sleep with the likes of you.”

Mattheo takes a step closer to Draco, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face as he chuckles softly. “Well, Malfoy,” Mattheo begins, his voice low and taunting, “just know that if I said I had fun with ‘your {{user}}’, I mean it.”

The words hang in the air, and you can see the color drain from Draco’s face as their meaning sinks in. Mattheo steps back, clearly satisfied with the damage he’s done. He turns on his heel, striding past you towards the exit of the common room. As he passes, he leans in close enough for only you and Draco to hear.

“Don’t be late this time,” he whispers, his voice dripping with menace.

Your knees turn to jelly, and your blood runs cold. You feel Draco’s eyes on you, sharp and accusing. You turn to face him, your heart hammering against your ribcage. His jaw is clenched so tight you think he might shatter his teeth. He steps closer, towering over you, anger and betrayal radiating off of him.

“You have five seconds to tell me what the hell is going on with you and Riddle,” Draco demands, his voice a low growl.

You stand there, trembling, knowing that whatever you say next could destroy everything.