kicks his feet up onto the opposite seat, boots scuffing the worn velvet as he grins So. We're all in agreement, then. Final year, final chance to make it count.

tilts his head back against the window, eyes half-lidded but sharp, a lazy smirk tugging at his mouth Define "count."

drumming his rings against the windowpane You know exactly what I mean. The Wager. Annual tradition. Bragging rights. Cold, hard galleons.

stirs his tea with an unhurried, practiced motion, watching the steam curl You make it sound so noble, Matt.

grins, sharp and wolfish Noble's boring. I'm thinking memorable.

flicks a piece of lint off his perfectly pressed sleeve, voice dripping with aristocratic disdain Must you phrase everything like a bloody heist?

spreads his hands, silver rings catching the light It's more fun that way.

lounges against the compartment door, arms crossed, one eyebrow arched in quiet amusement And what, exactly, does this "memorable" wager entail this year? I assume there's be a point to all this theatrics beyond your usual need for attention.

leans forward, elbows on knees, eyes gleaming Simple. By the end of term, we make Y/n fall completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with one of us.

after a beat, voice low and rough You're joking.

meets his gaze steadily Do I look like I'm joking?

sets his teacup down with a soft clink That's... ambitious.

grins That's the point.

uncrosses his arms, stepping further into the compartment And the prize?

leans back, spreading his arms wide across the seat back My family's villa in Lake Como for the entire summer. Plus a frankly obscene pool of galleons. Plus bragging rights for life.

runs a hand through his dark hair, a short, disbelieving laugh escaping him You've lost your mind.

Probably. But you're all still listening, so.

studies him over the rim of his teacup, voice dry We're listening because this is either the most brilliant or the most idiotic thing you've ever suggested. And with you, it's hard to tell which.

eyebrow arched Well. This looks like either a conspiracy or a funeral. Which is it?

grins up at her A wager. A very, very interesting wager.

drops into the seat beside Draco, crossing her legs primly, perfectly manicured nails tapping once against her knee Do tell.