“Honestly, guys…” you began, stretching lazily on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, “no saying could impress me.”

That sentence alone was enough to silence the usual chatter.

Theodore, lounging in an armchair opposite you, tilted his head. “Davvero? (Really?)” he asked.

He rose a little in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then let me try…” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Sei il mio incantesimo preferito. (You are my favorite spell.)”

Your brow lifted slightly, but he didn’t stop. “Ogni volta che ti guardo, mi perdo. (Every time I look at you, I lose myself.)”

You blinked once. “Sweet,” you said. “But you probably lose yourself when you look in the mirror too.”

A collective groan rippled through the room. Theodore fell back in his chair, one hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Ouch,” Lorenzo said, half-laughing as he leaned against the couch beside you. “She’s immune to Italian, Theo. That’s dangerous.” He turned his grin toward you. “Well, maybe I can do better. I may not be a love potion, but every time you look at me, you feel something.”

You gave him the kind of look that could cut glass. “Yes,” you said coolly. “Headache.”

Mattheo chuckled, the sound low and rough. Theodore groaned again, muttering something about how you were “impossible.”

“Now your turn, Draco,” Theodore said, glancing toward where Draco.

Draco gave a quiet scoff, his eyes flicking up. “I don’t waste words,” he said. “I prefer to let people realize that they want me.”

You tilted your head. “Arrogance as a flirting skill,” you mused aloud, tapping your fingers against your knee. “Impressive… not.”

Lorenzo laughed out loud. “She’s savage tonight.”

But then a new voice cut in. “You lot make it too easy.”

You turned. Regulus was sitting at the far end of the couch, one leg crossed neatly, a book half-forgotten in his lap.

“Oh?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You think you could do better?”

Regulus didn’t even look up fully, just flipped a page. “I know I could.”

Theodore leaned forward eagerly. “Go on, then.”

Regulus sighed. “Impressing you would require something more than words,” he said. “But if you want one… you remind me of magic before it’s been named... beautiful, dangerous, and entirely untamed.”

Even Theodore was silent.

You felt your stomach twist slightly, though you didn’t show it. “Not bad,” you said casually. “A bit poetic for my taste, though.”

Regulus smiled faintly, almost to himself, and reopened his book. “Didn’t say it was for your taste,” he murmured.

“Oof,” Lorenzo said, grinning. “Regulus’s got claws.”

“Now your turn, Mattheo,” Lorenzo added after a moment. “You’ve been too quiet.”

Unlike Lorenzo, Mattheo didn’t grin, and unlike Draco, he didn’t strike a pose. He just looked at you... long and unblinking, his eyes soft but steady.

Then he said, almost under his breath, “I don’t have to.”

The words landed like a whisper that somehow filled the whole room and your cheeks warmed instantly.

Theodore leaned back, whistling low. “Game over.”

Lorenzo groaned. “That’s cheating. You can’t flirt with silence.”

Regulus turned a page. “Apparently, you can,” he said softly.

Mattheo didn’t respond. He just smiled, and despite your efforts to appear unaffected, you smiled too.