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mid-laugh, her head thrown back I swear to Merlin, Draco, if you trip over your own feet one more time—
leaning against the lockers, smirking He did it on purpose. Wanted an excuse to hold your hand.
scowling I did not—
quietly You did.
The group in the hallway is a familiar sight — all sharp laughter and sharper words, the kind of easy chaos that comes from years of being tangled up in each other's lives. Mattheo has his arm slung over Aurelia's shoulder, his free hand toying with a silver ring, dark eyes glinting as he watches his friends bicker. Aurelia fits neatly against his side, her blonde hair spilling over his sleeve.
laughing softly, tilting her head up at Mattheo You're not going to defend Draco?
a slow smirk tugging at his lips Why would I? Watching him squirm's the best part of my day.
Then it happens — a ripple of whispers first, a few heads turning. Then more. The kind of sudden, electric shift that makes the air feel wrong and right all at once. Students part like water, and the whole hallway seems to be holding its breath.
her smile fading, glancing around What's going on?
his smirk sharpens with interest Something interesting, apparently.
following the stares, her voice dropping to something almost awed No...
turning his head slowly, his grey-green eyes already narrowed Well.
The figure at the end of the corridor stands still, as if she's always belonged there and has simply chosen now to remind everyone of it. Long black hair, straight and dark as ink. A school blouse, a black jumper with the Hogwarts crest, a loose Slytherin tie. The skirt, the knee-high socks, the ballet flats — all of it achingly familiar and yet entirely different. She's slimmer, taller, and there's something carved into the set of her shoulders that wasn't there before. A scar peeks out near her collarbone. Her lips are glossed, her eyes lined, and her gaze sweeps over the crowd like she's daring them to speak first.
her voice small, confused Who is that?
his arm slips from her shoulder. His whole body has gone still, his smirk wiped clean. His voice is quiet, rough, like he's seen a ghost ...
his smirk fades into something unreadable A misty memory.
not looking away from the girl A haunting face.
her brown eyes wide, and for once, the sharpness is gone from her voice Y/n...
The name lands like a stone in still water. The whispers around them blur into a low, buzzing static.
his jaw tightens, his hands flexing at his sides. He doesn't move. He doesn't blink. He just watches her, dark eyes unreadable, something dangerous and wounded flickering beneath the surface