The classroom buzzes with chatter as the students file in. At the back, Mattheo sits in his chair, arms crossed, confidence radiating from him. Around him sit Tom, Blaise, Draco, Regulus, Theodore and Lorenzo.

"Yeah, no... I never get nervous. Not my thing." Mattheo says, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you sure about that?" Draco asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm serious." Mattheo replies. "You're panicking about essays, girls and exams. I'm not."

Blaise leans back. "Not even when the professor almost caught you sneaking in after curfew?"

Mattheo shrugs. "Didn’t blink."

Regulus smirks. "What about that fourth year who tried to hex you?"

"Please." Mattheo scoffs. "She missed by a mile."

Just then, the classroom door opens. You walk in, calm, composed, books in hand. Mattheo's eyes flick to you - and in an instant, the air around him shifts. His shoulders stiffen. That cocky smirk falters, just a little.

You glance around the room, then start to walk backwards.

"Here we go." Lorenzo mutters under his breath, nudging Blaise.

You stop beside Mattheo's desk and offer a small smile.

"Is this seat taken?" you ask.

Mattheo blinks. "Uh-what? No. I mean - yes. No. It's not. You can sit. Definitely. Yeah." Mattheo stammers, already moving his things to make room.

Blaise presses his lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. Draco leans forward, grinning.

Mattheo fumbles with his quill, knocking it off the desk. He leans down to pick it up, then straightens up too quickly and bangs his elbow on the edge.

You hand him the quill, still smiling.

"Are you all right?" you ask.

"Me? Yeah. I'm fine. Great. Just..." Mattheo clears his throat. "Just thinking."

"Nervous?" you tease, tilting your head.

Mattheo lets out a laugh. "Nervous? No. Never."

Draco leans in closer to the group. "Yeah, he’s definitely never nervous."

The boys chuckle quietly as Mattheo stares straight ahead, jaw clenched, ears slightly red, pretending he doesn’t feel every inch of you beside him.