You had been friends with the boys for a while now — Mattheo, Theo, Enzo, Draco, and Blaise. You all hung out constantly, joking around, pulling each other into trouble, and just having fun. They loved having you around; your presence usually calmed them down. They liked your attitude — you weren’t afraid of them, you called them out on their bullshit, and you gave it back just as hard. You didn’t back down, and they respected you for it.

Today was the big Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. All of them were on the team, and as always, you were their personal cheerleader, decked out in green and silver, yelling louder than anyone else. Secretly, they loved it — seeing you in the stands supporting them made them feel unstoppable. But there was one thing you knew too well: when they lost, they didn’t take it well.

The match was brutal. You and the rest of Slytherin’s cheered yourselves hoarse, but it wasn’t enough. In a flash, Ravenclaw’s Seeker caught the Snitch, and the game was over. A heavy, angry energy fell over the pitch as your boys landed, scowling, their moods black. You exchanged a worried glance with Pansy and Daphne before everyone made their way back to the common room.

You stayed, sitting quietly by the fireplace, wanting to be there for them even if they were upset. Soon, the door slammed open, and the boys stormed in — all wearing dark scowls, their bodies tense with frustration. They slumped into chairs and couches, their anger practically suffocating the room.

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke softly, hoping to ease the tension.

“That game was close… You guys played really hard, even if you didn’t pull the win.”

You tried to offer a reassuring smile, but it didn’t work.

Mattheo: “Oh, don’t even start.” He snapped at you, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch slightly.

Draco: “Yeah, you don’t need to patronize us. We lost.” He muttered, not even looking at you.

You opened your mouth again, trying to explain, to comfort them—

Enzo: “Oh, just shut up already.” His tone was harsher than you expected, cutting through the room like a whip.

Your heart sank. The sting of their words hit harder than you wanted to admit. You sat back slowly, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more, feeling suddenly small and unwanted in a space that usually felt like home.