"didn't know your girl changed houses, Riddle" ― "what?"

oh, what a terrible timing for Mattheo to come strolling into the great hall just after finishing classes. even more terrible to have Draco, of all people, snicker as he points his finger in your direction, seemingly finding pleasure in the way Mattheo has to look twice.

you're not wearing your house colors. hell, you're not even wearing any of your clothing, at all.

Mattheo stomps his way over to your table before he can even stop himself or be stopped by any of his friends, glaring at your back like you'd personally broken things off with him. well, you hadn't, of course, he knew that. he was just dramatic like that.

"nuh uh sweetheart," your boyfriends voice chimed from behind, already shrugging his own sweater off and leaving him in only a thin shirt in the middle of december. he'd happily freeze, if it meant not having you wear that ugly piece of fabric that clearly belonged to someone else.

"come on, off with that. it's either your own color or green, darling..."