Double Vision | M•R or T•N · Y/n story by @ellss

The Slytherin common room was a crush of bodies and noise. Green-tinted lanterns swung from the ceiling, casting serpentine shadows that slithered across the stone walls. The bass from the enchanted wireless thrummed in the floor, vibrating up through the soles of shoes. Laughter, shouts, and the clink of glasses fought to be heard over the music.

Mattheo Riddle

leans against a carved stone pillar, swirling firewhisky in a lowball glass So you’re telling me you actually read the entire chapter on moonstone properties?

Blaise Zabini

I’m telling you it’s going to be on the exam. Slughorn’s obsessed. takes a slow sip of his own drink, eyes scanning the room Unlike some people, I prefer to pass my N.E.W.T.s.

A particularly loud burst of laughter draws Blaise’s gaze toward the makeshift drinks table. Theo Nott has Y/n backed against its edge, a bottle of Ogden’s in one hand. He’s smirking, saying something too low to hear over the din. Y/n rolls her eyes, shoves at his shoulder, but she’s laughing.

Theodore Nott

leaning in, voice teasing Admit it. You’re impressed.

Two shots later, the dynamic has shifted. Theo is sprawled in the center of a large leather sofa, one arm draped along the back. Y/n is perched on his lap, her fingers tangled in his dark hair as they kiss. It’s not a chaste, party-peck. It’s deep, messy, and entirely absorbed. Theo’s other hand rests possessively on her waist, his thumb moving in a slow circle against her shirt.

Blaise Zabini

glances sideways at Mattheo, who has gone very still Mate.

Mattheo’s knuckles are white around his glass. His jaw is a tight, clean line. He doesn’t look at the sofa. He stares fixedly at a crack in the stone floor.

Blaise Zabini

You good?

Mattheo Riddle

downs the rest of his firewhisky in one burning gulp Peachy.

The lie is brittle. From the sofa comes a breathless, laughing sound from Y/n, swallowed by another kiss. Theo’s murmur is just audible. "Come here—"