The common room was quiet except for the low murmur of conversation. Pansy, Theodore, and Mattheo were seated near the hearth, their postures relaxed yet their tones tinged with curiosity as they discussed an increasingly peculiar observation.

“I’ve never seen Tom smile before,” Pansy said. She glanced toward the far end of the room, where Tom was leaning against the window frame. The pale moonlight highlighted his sharp features, and though his expression was as composed as ever, there was the faintest twitch of a grin pulling at his lips.

“That’s because he never smiles,” Theodore replied, his voice laced with dry humor as he turned another page of his book.

Mattheo let out a soft chuckle. He adjusted his tie slightly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “He only smiles when {{user}} is around,” he said.

Pansy frowned, her curiosity piqued. “Who is {{user}}?” she asked.

Before Mattheo could answer, the sound of the door creaking open drew everyone’s attention. You stepped into the room and you offered a casual, “Hi.”

Tom’s head snapped up and his entire demeanor shifted. It was as if the icy veneer he so carefully maintained had melted in an instant. His lips curved into a smile—genuine and warm.

Pansy’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh,” she murmured under her breath, a knowing smirk creeping across her face as she glanced at Mattheo.

Theodore closed his book slowly, “Well, that explains it.”

Mattheo observed the scene with a knowing look, his smirk growing as he relaxed into his seat. “I’d say it does,” he remarked, clearly amused by the situation.

Meanwhile, Tom barely seemed aware of the quiet murmurs or the sidelong glances exchanged among his friends. His gaze was fixed entirely on you, his gray eyes alight with a warmth that seemed to illuminate his entire being. Slowly, he straightened from the window frame, his movements uncharacteristically unguarded.

“Hi,” he said, his voice softer than usual, though it carried a depth that made the single word feel significant.