You had attended a Slytherin party, invited by your best friend, Lorenzo. The night was filled with laughter, dancing, and drinks as you both let loose, wrapped in the glow of the evening’s festivities. But as the hours wore on, you suddenly felt a tight grip on your wrist. You barely had time to react before you were being pulled away from the music and crowd, dragged through the doorway and out into the dimly lit hall.

It was Theodore. He led you a few steps down the hall before stopping, pressing you back against the wall. One of his hands rested by your head, caging you in as his dark eyes narrowed, frustration evident on his face.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded, his voice low but sharp. His gaze flicked down, and he reached to tug at the hem of your dress, pulling it down as if to cover more of your skin.