The common room was buzzing with the warmth of familiarity. The crackling fire in the hearth sent flickers of amber light dancing across the walls, and the faint scent of parchment and cinnamon tea hung in the air.

Everyone was settled comfortably in their usual spots: Draco and Lorenzo were lounging near the window seat, while Theo leaned in his armchair, flipping through a book, occasionally tossing in a dry comment. Pansy was curled on the couch beside you, a playful smile on her lips, as Mattheo sprawled in his chair.

Out of nowhere, Mattheo broke the quiet hum of conversation with one of his signature declarations. “I would probably never get married,” he said, his tone casual. Pansy didn’t miss a beat. Her smile widened as she sat up straighter, the epitome of confidence. “I actually married my best friend,” she announced.

Mattheo’s brows shot up in mock surprise, his curiosity piqued. He leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. “Really?”

You immediately felt his gaze shift to you, and without missing a beat, you shot him a pointed look. “Don’t even think about it,” you said firmly, but the corner of your mouth quirked up despite yourself.

Mattheo’s eyes sparkled, his grin turning downright devilish. He tilted his head as if considering. “We don’t have to do it…” he drawled, pausing for effect before adding with a wink, “…but I’m still going to think about it.”

The room burst into laughter. Theo chuckled quietly behind his book, shaking his head in amusement. Draco smirked, crossing his arms, while Lorenzo’s lips twitched into a rare grin. Pansy threw her head back, cackling in delight at the chaos she’d stirred.

Turning to her with an exaggerated glare. “See what you started?”

She batted her lashes innocently, her smirk anything but repentant. “What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart,” she quipped.

Mattheo leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary. “Romantic or troublemaker, the jury’s still out,” he murmured, his voice low but teasing.