she’s busy.

You and Mattheo had been at odds for as long as either of you could remember. It started over something stupid — a spilled potion, a sarcastic comment, who knows — and ever since then, you were rivals. Or, more accurately, he made it his mission to drive you up the wall every chance he got. What you didn’t know was that, underneath all his smirks and snide remarks, he was completely and hopelessly in love with you.

Back in the Slytherin dorms, Mattheo was sprawled across his bed, tossing a Snitch lazily between his hands as he talked to Theo.

“I don’t know, mate,”

he muttered.

“It’s not like she’d want to hang out anyway.”

Theo raised a brow.

“Then call her. Worst thing that happens is she doesn’t answer.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, but his fingers were already dialing your number. He held the phone to his ear, pretending to be nonchalant — even though his heart was thudding harder than he’d admit.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

He sighed and pulled the phone away from his ear, already regretting calling. But just as he started to lock the screen, a message lit up.

From you.

’she’s busy.’

Mattheo froze. That wasn’t your tone. That wasn’t even you, was it?

His jaw clenched.

Who the hell had your phone? Who were you with? A guy?