The fire crackled softly in the common room, casting flickering shadows on the emerald-and-silver walls. Evan sat in one of the plush green armchairs. Across from him, Mattheo lounged lazily on a couch, while Draco, perched on the armrest. Theodore, Lorenzo, Regulus, and Blaise formed a loose circle around them.

“So?” Mattheo drawled. “What was it like? You’ve been walking around looking like you’ve won the bloody Tr*wizard Tournament. Spill it already.”

Evan shifted in his seat, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “It’s… it was… I don’t know how to describe it,” he said. “You know how sometimes you imagine something, and it’s perfect? But then it actually happens, and somehow it’s even better?”

Blaise chuckled. “Someone’s got it bad,” he teased.

Draco tilted his head, a grin breaking across his face. “So, she is older, right? What’s that like?”

“Oi, give him a break,” Theodore interjected. “It’s not every day Evan turns into a blushing schoolboy.”

Evan groaned, but couldn't hide the shy smile tugging at his lips. "She's... amazing," he admitted. "Just... so kind. And patient. And..." He trailed off, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

The low hum of conversation was interrupted by the sound of the common room door creaking open. All heads turned, and there you stood.

The warmth of the room seemed to intensify as Evan’s face turned a shade of red none of them had seen before. His friends exchanged knowing looks, a few smirks tugging at their lips.

“Speak of the devil,” Mattheo murmured under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear as you stepped closer.

Evan shot him a glare. “I, uh—hi,” he stammered, his previous confidence nowhere to be found.

You raised a brow, catching the tail end of the conversation and the unmistakable way everyone’s attention lingered on you. “Am I interrupting something?” you asked, a small smile playing on your lips.

The boys laughed, and Evan’s eyes darted to the floor as he mumbled, “No, not at all. Just… talking.”

“About you,” Draco added with a grin.