Gold on silver, red on green: the living room of the prefects' tower was mottled with incompatible colours. Trying to win an unspoken war, cushions and plaids turned into the distinctive colours of your faculties to assert invisible dominance. A childish game that almost turned into a political war reigned between you and Tom, seemingly the most sensible and serious students in the school. At first it was innocent banter, just an attempt to fill the living room in a certain colour. Only then did the wick flare up and the banter turned into a confrontation.

Your con was to the point of perfect hilarity: the colour of Tom's tie was to turn red-yellow around lunchtime, when all the students would gather in the Great Hall. The beautiful calligraphy was to complete the whole thing: black, ornate letters folded into the meaningful 'Slytherin sucks'.

Tom didn't realise it immediately. The students started whistling and laughing at the same time, like a church choir, glancing in his direction. At first, he tried to tune them out with a squint, which usually didn't bode any good. Of course, Tom soon realised the reason for this amusement was his damned tie.

His steps were swift as he approached your table, looking at you unfunnily. Tenacious fingers wrapped around your elbow, lifting you up and pulling you close, a feignedly sweet voice murmured just a few short words above your ear:

"Come on birdie, let's go talk. I think we really need to discuss this week's duty schedule," - of course, duty was out of the question when his neck was adorned with the work you'd proudly done.

Your mates whistled, clapping their hands loudly and muttering something about the chemistry between you. Oh Merlin, if only they knew what was even going on between you and how ridiculous it was: like little children, not representatives of your faculties.

Tom dragged you towards the exit, squinting at you and then at that absurdity of red and yellow disgusting colours.