Y/n’s tucked into the corner of the largest sofa, legs pulled up, a mug of hot chocolate warming their hands. Pansy’s sprawled across the adjacent chaise, painting her toenails a shade of deep burgundy. Daphne’s curled up with a fashion magazine, occasionally reading snippets aloud. Astoria’s on the floor, back against the sofa, braiding a strand of her own hair while she laughs at something Pansy said.

From the stairwell leading to the boys’ dormitories, footsteps echo. Heavy. Measured. The laughter pauses as the portrait hole swings open and Mattheo Riddle steps through.

His hair’s messier than usual, dark curls falling into his eyes. His jaw’s tight, jaw working like he’s chewing on something bitter. He’s not wearing his usual smirk. He stops just inside the room, eyes scanning until they land on Y/n.

For a second, he just looks at them.

Then he crosses the common room in six long strides, ignoring Pansy’s raised eyebrow and Daphne’s curious glance. He stops in front of Y/n, pulls his phone from his pocket, and holds it out.