It was late one night at a Slytherin party and there you stood, in the middle of the room, knuckles bloodied as you used the back of your hand to wipe a trickle of blood from your nose. You’d just beaten the absolute shit out of a guy for getting a bit too touchy with one of your drunk friends.

“Piece of sh*t.”

You cursed before kicking him one last time and walking away; most people were moving on, continuing to party. But not Mattheo. No. Your whole outburst had completely caught his attention as an intrigued grin spread on his face. He made his way through the crowd in your direction.

“{{user}}, right?”