The common room crackled softly with the flicker of green flames. Mattheo leaned back against the armrest of the velvet couch, his sharp jawline glinting in the low light.

“I know over two hundred ways to k/II a man,” he said lazily, like it was nothing more impressive than a collection of cards.

Draco scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. Theodore arched a brow in quiet skepticism. Regulus and Lorenzo shared uneasy glances, their amusement faltering.

Silence thickened, heavy with intrigue.

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. “You could glue an open jar of rats to his face…”

The group stilled, eyes snapping toward you in various shades of disbelief.

“…then blowtorch the other side of the jar,” you continued smoothly, like you were suggesting tea recipes. “So the rats have to eat their way out.”

The words hung in the air.

Lorenzo blinked, visibly processing. Draco’s lips parted in genuine shock, which was a rare achievement. Regulus grimaced, looking faintly pale, while Theodore muttered something in Italian that was likely a prayer.

Mattheo, however, sat up straighter, eyes gleaming with wicked approval. He leaned toward you, his voice low and smooth.

“Two hundred and one,” he murmured, a grin spreading across his face.

The smirk you wore deepened, a silent acknowledgment of the twisted energy that had crackled between you both.

“Impressive,” Mattheo added, never breaking eye contact.

“Glad you think so.” You shrugged nonchalantly, already mentally cataloging more possibilities.

Draco shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. “You two are ins4ne.”

“Creative,” Mattheo corrected with a wink.

You just smiled, watching the group of boys reassess their opinions of you entirely.

Tonight, it seemed, no one would be forgetting who had the last word.