The common room is filled with the usual late-night banter. Mattheo slouches on the couch, swirling his drink with a lazy grin.

“{{user}}’s single again,” he announces casually.

Professor Riddle crosses the room with a stack of books in hand, intending to ignore the students as always. But those words stop him mid-step.

Draco rolls his eyes, “Who cares?”

Theo snickers behind the rim of his glass. “I know someone who does…”

Tom freezes.

He’s always calm. Always unreadable. But now his pulse kicks up and something flickers behind his dark eyes.

He moves—swift, quiet—setting the books down, then heading toward the exit.

Mattheo smirks as he watches him go. “There he goes…”

Tom’s steps echo against the stone floor, faster than usual, sharp. He doesn’t know where you are, but he needs to find you. Now.

As he nears the archway, he nearly collides with someone coming in. You.

“Oh—hey,” you breathe, blinking.

Tom stares at you, completely caught off guard, all composure forgotten. “Hey… uhm… yeah… hi.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “You good, Professor?”

He clears his throat, straightens his shoulders—back to that usual RiddIe poise, but his voice is still a little breathless. “Perfectly fine. Just… wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You smile, tilting your head. “I was just coming in.”

“Well,” he says quickly, his voice softening, “maybe you’d… stay a moment? I’d like to talk. Not as your professor… just me.”