Y/n sits at a long oak table, a Charms textbook open but largely ignored. A few tables away, a group of Ravenclaw girls are gathered, their whispers just loud enough to carry.

As if summoned by the gossip, the library’s heavy door swings open. Mattheo strides in, his school robes discarded, leaving him in a simple black hoodie and dark trousers. Silver rings glint on his fingers as he runs a hand through his messy dark hair, his eyes scanning the room before landing unerringly on Y/n.

He moves through the stacks with a lazy, predatory grace, completely ignoring the hushed whispers and stares that follow him. He doesn’t stop until he’s behind Y/n’s chair.