They were sitting in one of the plush chairs in the common room, legs crossed, an air of defiance simmering just below the surface. The boys were lounging around casually - Draco twirling his w4nd lazily, Theodore leaning against the bookcase with his arms crossed, and Blaise sprawled out on the sofa. Lorenzo and Regulus exchanged subtle glances, feeling the tension building like a storm cloud.

And then there was Mattheo.

He stood near the fireplace, his dark curls messy, his sharp jaw clenched as his eyes darted between you and Astoria.

Astoria’s voice was sharp as glass. “I’m not stupid, Mattheo. I know what you’ve done,” she hissed. “And you—what did you think you were doing? Was it fun?”

You leaned back in your chair, tilting your head with a smirk. “Someone once told me to stay away from things that aren’t mine...” Your eyes flicked to Mattheo, who stiffened under your gaze. “But was he yours if he wanted me so bad?”

The room fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound as your words cut through the air. Mattheo’s eyes locked on yours, a mix of guilt and something d4rker flickering in his expression.

Astoria let out a low growl of frustration, her nails digging into her palms. “Pacify her, Mattheo. She’s getting on my nerves.”

You leaned forward, your voice soft but laced with steel. “You don’t love her,” you said, your gaze boring into him. “Stop lying.”

The room felt electric. Mattheo’s jaw worked as he struggled to find words, his usual charm failing him. The boys around you exchanged awkward glances, clearly unsure whether to intervene or let the drama unfold.

Astoria’s face twisted with rage, but before she could say anything, Mattheo finally spoke, his voice low and rough. “This isn’t the time for this,” he muttered, though his eyes remained on you, filled with a mix of anger and something that looked like longing.

You rose from your chair slowly, keeping your gaze locked with his. “No, Mattheo. It’s exactly the time.”

The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, impossible to ignore.