The Three Broomsticks is packed tonight, as you stand by the bar talking to some RavencIaw guy whose name you barely remember—just a casual, friendly conversation.

At least, that’s what it was supposed to be.

You don’t notice the shift in the atmosphere at first, but then a presence makes itself known beside you—towering, unapologetically close.

Theo’s cologne is familiar, warm spice and something darkly intoxicating, wrapping around you like a possessive whisper. His hand rests heavily on your shoulder, fingers grazing your skin as if staking his claim.

"Hey, bella," Theo murmurs smoothly, his voice deceptively light, though you don’t miss the edge beneath it.

But then you see it. That look.

His blue eyes flicker to the guy standing in front of you—the one who was talking to you like he had any right to be this close.

Theo’s expression is blank at first, almost bored, but then he tilts his head ever so slightly. The silent audacity in his stare is enough to make anyone second-guess their life choices.

The RavencIaw clears his throat, suddenly looking very, very uncomfortable.

Theo doesn’t say a word to him—doesn’t need to. His presence alone is loud enough.

Instead, he focuses on you, tightening his hold on your shoulder, pulling you closer so that there’s no misunderstanding between the three of you.

"You were saying?" he asks, his voice just for you now.

The guy mutters some excuse about needing to be somewhere else before making a hasty exit.

Theo watches him go, his glare unwavering, and then—as if nothing happened—he leans down, lips brushing against your ear.

"You're cute when you pretend I’m not the only one you need," he whispers.