Theo’s eyes widen the moment Mattheo stumbles into the common room, his lip split and the corner of his cheek already darkening into a bruise. He’s clutching his jaw like it might fall off. The sight is enough to silence half the room.

“What the fuck,” Theo blurts, rising to his feet instantly. His voice is sharp, caught somewhere between concern and anger. “What the hell happened to you?”

Mattheo drops heavily into one of the armchairs, stretching his legs out like nothing’s wrong, even though his wince betrays him. “Relax,” he mutters, tone dripping with false nonchalance.

Tom doesn’t even look up from the book in his hand. His voice is dry, controlled, cutting straight through the air. “Got into another fight, I presume. You really need to start controlling your temper, brother.”

Mattheo smirks, though it’s more of a grimace with the bruise tugging at his cheek. “It’s not like I planned for it to happen.”

Theo crosses his arms, glaring down at him. “And who was it,” he demands, “that made you look like… that?”

At that, Tom finally lowers the book, his eyes narrowing in disbelief as the pieces click together. He leans forward slightly, voice dripping with sharp sarcasm. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Mattheo shifts uncomfortably, avoiding his brother’s stare. “Tom, don’t.”

Theo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—what?”

Tom lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “{{user}}, a girl, really? You let a girl do that to your face?”

The other Slytherin boys, who’ve been watching like hawks, immediately burst into chatter. Draco lets out a bark of laughter, clutching his stomach. “Merlin’s beard, Riddle, you’re actually serious? A girl?”

Blaise smirks from where he’s lounging against the sofa, eyes gleaming. “I’m dying to hear this story. Who was she, Mattheo? Please say it was someone’s girlfriend. Preferably a Gryffindor.”

Theo glares at them all, his protectiveness simmering into frustration. “This isn’t funny. He looks like he got hexed by a troll.”

Mattheo finally snaps, glaring back at his brothers. “What was I supposed to do, huh? She swung at me—I’m not exactly gonna hit her back, am I?” He leans back in the chair, wincing again as his jaw protests. “And for the record, she’s got a pretty damn good punch.”

Enzo lets out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin. “Well, whoever she is, I think I’m in love already.”

Draco smirks wider. “She’s got guts. I like her.”

Theo pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about how utterly reckless his best friend is. Tom, however, looks far from amused—his eyes sharp, assessing, calculating.

“This is pathetic,” Tom says finally, his voice cool and laced with irritation. “If word gets out you lost to a girl, Mattheo, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Mattheo groans, throwing his head back against the chair. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t a duel, Tom. She got the drop on me, alright? That’s it.”

Blaise chuckles, leaning forward. “So what you’re saying is… she won.”

“Shut up, Blaise,” Mattheo snaps, but the flush creeping up his neck only makes the others laugh harder.

Theo, meanwhile, is still staring at him, torn between wanting to lecture or actually find this girl and demand an explanation. The tension between the brothers simmers beneath the humor of the rest of the group, the common room now alive with energy, teasing, and disbelief.

And despite Mattheo’s protests, the smirk tugging at the corner of his bruised lip suggests that maybe—just maybe—he’s not entirely furious about the way it happened.