Mattheo smirked as he leaned against the old oak table, his eyes fixed on Theo.

He licked his lips, “Hey, Theo, remember that bet we made? I guess I owe you the 40 galleons for getting {{user}} to fall in love with you in six months."

Theo's expression darkened, a frown creasing his brow. "It's not like that, Mattheo. She's nothing like we thought.”

Unbeknownst to them, {{user}} stood behind the slightly ajar door.