Yuki walked in the room, her heels clacking on the stone. She walked in like she owned the room, and they were all just in it. She was ethereal like the night of a full moon lying among a bed of stars. Yuki’s cool hands covered Mattheo’s eyes. “Boo.” “You have a lot of nerve letting me sneak up on you.” She put lets her hands fall putting one to his pulse point. “Boom. You’d have been dead.” Y/N has spent years hiding their misophobia from everyone at Hogwarts. The constant handwashing. The spare gloves tucked into their robes. The panic that crawls up their throat whenever someone touches their things without permission. Most people mistake their distance for arrogance, assuming the Slytherin is simply too good for everyone else. Y/N prefers it that way. It’s easier than explaining why a smudge of dirt can ruin an entire day. Mattheo Riddle, unfortunately, notices everything. At first, he thinks Y/N’s habits are just another one of their quirks. Then he catches them scrubbing their hands raw after Potions. Then he finds them nearly having a panic attack after a group project leaves ink and grime all over their desk. And suddenly, teasing them isn’t nearly as funny. As their friendship deepens into something neither of them is prepared to name, Mattheo becomes one of the few people Y/N can tolerate in their personal space. One of the few people who learns that comfort isn’t measured in grand gestures, but in remembering to knock, asking before touching, and quietly carrying hand sanitizer in his pocket because he knows they’ll forget theirs eventually. The problem is that everyone has an opinion. Theo thinks Mattheo is becoming soft. Pansy thinks Y/N is making Mattheo impossible to deal with because he’s constantly worrying about them. Draco thinks Y/N’s rules are ridiculous and doesn’t understand why Mattheo bends over backward to accommodate them. Blaise thinks neither of them is being honest about what they mean to each other and is tired of w