The common room is unusually calm as Theo and Tom lounge about, Tom buried in a thick tome while Theo fiddles with his wand. The moment Mattheo storms in, blood trickling from his nose, all eyes fix on him.

“What the fu—” Theo starts, then corrects himself. “What the hell happened to you?”

Tom glances up from his book, then looks back down. “Got into another fight, I presume?”

Mattheo doesn’t respond at first, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. Tom looks up again, a hint of exasperation on his face. “You really need to start controlling your temper, brother.”

“It’s not like I plan these things,” Mattheo finally mutters, slumping onto the couch.

Theo chuckles knowingly, leaning forward. “So who was it that made you look like that?”

Mattheo hesitates, trying to avert his eyes, but Tom senses his reluctance. Without warning, Tom uses Legilimency, delving into Mattheo’s mind. Tom’s eyes widen, and he hisses, “You’ve got to be kidding me, right?” He glances at Mattheo, arching a brow. “{{user}}? A girl? Really?”

Scowling, Mattheo crosses his arms. “Well, I wasn’t exactly going to hit her back, was I? She’s got a pretty good punch, too.”

Theo bursts out laughing, stepping around the couch to inspect Mattheo’s injury. He lifts Mattheo’s chin, wand at the ready. “Whatever you say, Riddle. This may hurt a bit.”

Mattheo starts to protest. “What are you—?”

“Episkey,” Theo says firmly, and a flash of light mends Mattheo’s nose. He yelps at the sudden jolt of pain.

Tom snorts, shaking his head in mild disappointment as he returns to his book. “So weak,” he mutters under his breath.