Draco stumbles into the common room looking like a ghost of himself. No suit. No cufflinks. No smug superiority. Just a plain black t-shirt, dark jeans, and the unmistakable aura of a man who’s been thoroughly handled.

Mattheo does a double take to make sure his eyes aren’t playing tricks on him. “Hell has frozen over. No suit today, Draco?”

Theo lets out a low whistle. “Bro looks like he lost a fight with his girlfriend.”

Draco shoots him a deadpan glare. “You think this is funny?”

Enzo grins, tossing a cushion at him. “You want a pity hug or you good?”

Draco sinks into a chair with a groan. “A hug won’t save me from {{user}}’s ovaries, Enzo.”

That’s when you walk in unbothered, smirking like you already know you’re the reason his soul left his body two nights ago. Your eyes zeroed in on Draco like you own him.

Theo shakes his head, already knowing Draco’s fate. “May the gods be with you, Malfoy.”

You smirk. “Too late for that.”

“The gods left me the second I met her.” Draco mutters.

Mattheo scoffs not having any pity for his friend. “He could say no, but he thinks devotion means dying slowly and liking it.”

Draco rolls his eyes, not in the mood to hear any advice from his friends. “I haven’t slept in two nights. Shut up.”

You stop in front of him, one hand behind your back.

“Lucky for you…” you purr, producing a small glass vial with deep emerald liquid, “I brought reinforcements.”

He eyes it like it might bite. “What is that?”

“Just a little something I brewed myself from Snape’s secret stash. Think of it as stronger pepper up potion.”

Mattheo snatches it and gives it a quick once over. “Side effects?”

You smile. “Only paranoia. Restlessness. And the slight possibility to cause a heart attack.”

Enzo’s eyes widen. “Sounds illegal.”

“Sounds like you should mind your business, Berkshire,” you toss back.

Draco stares at the vial, then at you. He uncorks it slowly, sniffs, grimaces, and downs it in one go.

Ten seconds later, he sits up straighter, color rushing back to his cheeks.

“…I can taste numbers and hear colors.”

“Yeah, because that’s totally fine,” Theo teases. “{{user}}, that concoction is probably going to kiII him.”

You grin and lean down, lips brushing Draco’s ear. “But at least you’ll die with a smile on your face.”

Draco doesn’t answer. He exhales, already accepting his fate.

Mattheo can’t help but chuckle to himself. “May the odds be ever in your favor, ferret.”