The flames flickered in the fireplace, casting long shadows against the dark stone walls of the common room.

"You lot seriously need to read more," you said. "Professor’s argument about the Potion's origins was completely wrong. It wasn’t actually developed in the 20th century—it was based on an old medieval concoction used by—"

Theodore, lounging lazily in an armchair, exhaled a slow breath, tilting his head back as if he were suffering. "Merlin, spare us," he muttered. "Do you ever stop?"

You shot him a glare. "I’m sorry, would you rather remain ignorant?"

Draco, who had been listening with a smirk, exchanged an amused glance with Blaise. Mattheo, sprawled across another chair, let out a low chuckle, while Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, entertained. Regulus, always one to appreciate a bit of chaos, watched with an amused tilt of his head.

Theodore smirked and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "No, go on, I’m dying to hear more about your extensive knowledge of potions history."

You frowned at his tone. "You’re mocking me," you accused.

His lips twitched. "Me? Never."

You huffed. "Cosa vuol dire?"

His grin widened. He leaned in, voice smooth and teasing. "Vuol dire che sei una maestrina del c/zzo, capito?"

Silence. Then—

Draco let out a low chuckle, Blaise smirked behind his drink, and Mattheo threw his head back with a laugh. Lorenzo gave Regulus a knowing look, and Regulus? He just exhaled sharply through his nose, lips twitching in amusement.

Your eyes narrowed, heat rushing to your face.

Theodore simply leaned back, entirely too pleased with himself. "Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that," he said. "You make it too easy."

You huffed, grabbing a cushion from the sofa and chucking it at his head. He barely dodged, laughing as it hit the armrest instead.

"Face it," Mattheo smirked, "he's got a point."

You shot him a glare. "Shut up."

Draco smirked. "Don’t take it personally. You know we love you for it."

Blaise nodded, raising his glass. "To our very own insufferable know-it-all."