Every fork stopped mid-air. Every head turned. Even the professors' table had gone still, McGonagall's cup frozen halfway to her mouth.

You were on your feet. So was he.

Mattheo took one step toward you. Then another. The entire hall leaned in.

Then the doors at the far end of the hall banged open, and every ounce of that attention snapped to the black robes sweeping down the aisle.

Professor Snape did not look angry. That was somehow so much worse.

Pansy's laugh carried clear across the room. A cluster of Gryffindors started a slow, sarcastic applause. When you finally looked back, Mattheo was already watching you.