The common room was aglow with flickering green light from the enchanted fire in the ornate hearth. Shadows danced across the stone walls, the faint sound of water dripping from the Bl4ck Lake above barely audible. Bottles of F/rewhisky and Butt/rbeer littered the surface, a sign of their escalating game of Never Have I Ever.

Mattheo, leaning casually in his seat with one ankle resting on his knee, raised his glass with a sly smirk. His dark curls fell over his forehead as his eyes scanned the group.

“Alright,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “Never have I ever been in handcuffs.”

A chorus of groans and chuckles rippled through the group. Blaise raised an eyebrow, sipping leisurely. Theodore muttered something about Mattheo’s choice of questions, while Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark sneer tugging at his lips. Regulus sat back with a faint smirk but didn’t drink.

You hesitated for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek. Then, with deliberate nonchalance, you raised your glass and took a long sip. The warm burn of the Firewhisky traced down your throat, the room going silent as all eyes turned to you.

Mattheo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes darkening with intrigue. “Being arrested?” he drawled, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared you down.

You placed your glass back on the table, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “That wasn’t the question,” you replied smoothly, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

The group erupted.

“Bloody hell!” Draco exclaimed, looking at you with incredulity. “You’ve got to be joking!”

Lorenzo, sprawled out lazily in an armchair with a crooked grin, shook his head in mock disbelief. “And here I thought you were innocence itself,” he teased, lifting his own drink in a mock toast to you.

Mattheo chuckled, his gaze lingering on you, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Well, now you’ve got my attention,” he said, sitting back again but not taking his eyes off you.