Draco lounged on the couch in the common room like a soldier who had just returned from battle. His hair was slightly tousled, his shirt collar was askew, and there was a faint trace of lipstick on his neck.

“Rough night?” Mattheo asks, smirking.

Draco glares at him without lifting his head. “Rough week.”

“She’s ovulating again, isn’t she?” Theodore asks, not even pretending to hide his laughter.

“Since Tuesday. Without a break,” Draco mutters, rubbing his temples.

Lorenzo lets out a low whistle from across the room. “It must be exhausting,” he says, his voice laced with mock sympathy.

“It’s beyond exhausting,” Draco says. “It’s a full-blown war.”

Mattheo leans forward. “I warned you. She gets that look in her eye — like she’s going to ruin your life — and you let her.”

“I want her to ruin my life,” Draco snaps, then immediately regrets saying it out loud. “She already has.”

“You better stretch this time,” Mattheo says suddenly, his eyes flicking towards the stairs. “She’s coming down.”

All heads turn towards the girls' dorm staircase.

And then you appear, wearing one of Draco’s white shirts, with sleeves that are too long and a loose collar.

“Draco?” you ask sweetly.

Mattheo lets out a low whistle. “De4d man walking.”

Regulus strolls into the common room at that exact moment and glances at the scene. Following everyone's gaze, he sees you at the foot of the stairs and smirks as if he’s already figured out the entire situation.

“That girl’s got more cycles than a moon phase calendar,” Regulus says.

Draco stands up slowly, runs a hand through his hair, and sighs.

“She is my downfall,” Draco says, and it’s not a complaint. It’s a confession.

You smile. “Are you coming, or should I make the decision for you?”

Mattheo claps his hands once. “It’s been an honor knowing you, brother.”

“Rest in peace,” Theodore murmurs, covering his heart with exaggerated solemnity.

“Merlin bless your soul,” Lorenzo adds, dramatically wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Draco just follows you up the stairs like a man walking willingly into the fire.

Regulus sits on the arm of the couch, watching him go. “Honestly,” he mutters, “if she looked at me like that, I’d burn the world down too.”

A moment of silence settles over the room.

Mattheo reaches for the popcorn. “Ten Galleons says he doesn’t make it to Monday.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Theodore says, grinning.