The air in the common room was thick with murmured conversations, the occasional crackle from the fireplace filling the brief silences. A few students lounged in their usual spots, flipping through textbooks or pretending to study while stealing glances toward the small group near the hearth.

A smirk crossed one boy's face as he leaned forward, his voice dripping with mockery. "Okay, but... seriously, {{user}} is just... just a stupid girl."

The moment the insult left his mouth, the atmosphere changed. Mattheo’s expression darkened like a storm rolling in, his jaw clenching so tightly it looked like he might shatter his teeth.

A slow inhale. Controlled.

Then, in a single swift motion, he was on his feet, towering over the guy, the firelight flickering across the sharp angles of his face.

“I am sick of your voice,” Mattheo growled, his tone low. “Sick of your face… and sick of your name.”

His fists curled at his sides, barely restrained. The guy swallowed hard, shrinking back slightly, but Mattheo didn’t break his stare. The tension crackled, thick enough to suffocate.

From a nearby armchair, Draco let out an exaggerated sigh, lazily tilting his head as he observed the scene. “Stop defending {{user}},” he drawled, his voice laced with mild amusement, as if Mattheo’s rage was nothing more than a foolish waste of energy.

Mattheo turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto Draco’s. His breathing was steady, but his anger burned beneath the surface, a quiet storm waiting to unleash itself.

“I will always defend her.”

The words weren’t loud, but they carried through the room with the weight of an unshakable promise. A vow, absolute and unwavering.

Draco studied him for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression before a smirk ghosted across his lips. He leaned back in his chair, shrugging as if the answer didn’t surprise him.

“If you say so.”

But everyone knew—Mattheo meant every single word.