The fire crackled softly in the dimly lit common room, casting flickering shadows on the green and silver tapestries hanging on the walls.

Mattheo was sprawled lazily on the dark leather sofa, his feet propped up on the armrest as he absentmindedly flicked a crumpled piece of parchment towards the fire. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned over to Blaise, who was sitting nearby, and muttered something that made Blaise chuckle softly.

Draco sat at the large oak table, polishing his broomstick with practiced care. From time to time, he glanced over at Pansy, who was sitting on the arm of the nearest chair, legs crossed, laughing at her own clever remarks about their upcoming weekend trip to Hogsmede.

"You know, Draco, if you polish that broom any harder, you'll wear it down to a twig," Pansy teased, tossing a cushion lightly in his direction.

Draco grinned and caught the pillow effortlessly. "Just making sure it's perfect for our victory next week. Someone has to carry the team." Pansy rolled her eyes with a playful smile. "Always the humble one."

Tom sat near the fireplace, his tall frame relaxed in an armchair, a thick, antique-looking book resting on his lap. He barely glanced up from the pages, though a slight grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he listened to the banter.

Just then you entered, greeted by the familiar warmth of the common room. Mattheo looked up first, his grin widening. "Ah, here's trouble. We were beginning to think you were planning something without us."

You laughed, shaking your head as you dropped your bag by the couch.