The common room was quiet, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. Tom leaned forward, his eyes locked on Mattheo.

“So,” Tom said, his voice smooth yet inquisitive, “what do you think about {{user}}?”

“She’s funny and pretty,” Mattheo said simply.

But the room shifted. The air grew heavier, quieter. Draco, Theodore, Lorenzo, and Regulus all turned their gazes toward him, their expressions varying from curiosity to intrigue. Mattheo let out a slow breath, his smirk fading as he leaned back against the couch..

“But,” he continued, his voice softer now, more thoughtful, “if you asked me on a deeper level…” He paused, as if searching for the right words.

“I would say that {{user}}’s heart is full of love, romance, and longing. She always pretends to be so tough, but deep down, she’s soft and vulnerable, like a child. She tells stupid jokes so she doesn’t have to be serious, because if she had to talk seriously about certain things… she’d probably start crying.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. The flickering firelight danced across Mattheo’s face, highlighting the sincerity in his expression.

“She thinks she’s all alone,” Mattheo continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, “but she doesn’t realize how many people care about her. These people… they don’t like being with her because she’s incredibly popular, no…” He shook his head slightly.

“They like being with her because she makes them feel comfortable. She is like a warm blanket… a hot cup of chocolate… like the stars in the firmament.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Because she’s always there, watching over her loved ones. Every day. Every second. Always.”

The fire crackled again, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. No one spoke. Even Tom, usually unreadable, studied Mattheo with an expression that bordered on fascination. Draco shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, while Theodore exchanged a look with Lorenzo.