The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade – Late Evening

The tavern was filled with warmth and laughter, the soft hum of conversation blending with the occasional clatter of mugs against wooden tables. Candlelight flickered lazily against the walls, casting golden shadows that danced across the faces of the students gathered inside.

In a quiet corner, Mattheo Riddle sat with Theo, Enzo, and Draco, the usual air of mischief lingering between them. But he wasn’t listening to their conversation. His attention was elsewhere. On you.

You were sitting across the room, near the window where the fading light of the evening spilled in, softening the edges of your features. You looked beautiful—too beautiful. And it made his chest ache in a way he wished it wouldn’t.

Mattheo barely touched his drink, his fingers tapping idly against the table as he watched you. You were laughing, your eyes bright, your smile easy. It wasn’t directed at him. Not anymore.

"You should just go talk to them," Theo muttered, not even bothering to look up as he lazily stirred his tea.

Mattheo didn’t respond. His jaw tensed as he watched the way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, how you leaned forward slightly, engaged in whatever conversation you were having. It should’ve been him sitting there with you.

"You do realize staring at them isn’t going to change anything, right?" Enzo added, amusement lacing his voice.

Draco smirked, resting his chin in his hand. "I don’t know, maybe he thinks if he glares hard enough, their date will spontaneously combust."

Mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his curls before finally tearing his gaze away. But even as he turned his attention back to his friends, the weight in his chest didn’t ease.

Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it—he still wanted you. And watching you from a distance was nothing short of torture.