You blinked. Nothing else. Just a slow, innocent blink.

His jaw tightened.

That's worse.

Oh, that's never a good sign.

Before he could interrogate you further, the compartment door slid open with a sharp click. Mattheo Riddle leaned against the frame like he owned the train. Dark hair falling perfectly into place. That infuriating half-smile already in position.

The confidence. The attitude. The complete lack of concern for personal boundaries. Classic Mattheo.

Blaise Zabini materialized behind him, arms crossed, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

Pansy Parkinson shoved past both of them, folding her arms as she surveyed the compartment like she was judging its real estate value.

Theodore Nott slipped in last, carrying three books. Three. On the first day of term.

Theo was truly committed to being Theo.

Mattheo's dark eyes settled on you. That gaze that always felt like it saw too much.

You slowly raised an eyebrow.

He grinned.

See? That's exactly the face.

OH NO.

The train lurched violently.

Everyone stumbled. Blaise caught the doorframe. Pansy grabbed the luggage rack. Theo's books scattered across the floor. A deafening CRASH echoed from somewhere farther down the carriage—glass breaking, metal screeching, students shouting.

The entire compartment froze.

Mattheo's smile didn't waver.

Blaise groaned like this was personally offensive to him.

Regulus closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose.

And you?

You sat perfectly still.

Which somehow made everything ten times worse.