Green light pulsed through the black lake's enchanted windows, casting the whole room in shifting emerald shadows. The music was far too loud, some heavy bassline vibrating through the stone floor and up into everyone's chest.

It was just past ten o'clock on Friday night. The party had officially started an hour ago, but it already looked like it had been going for days. Bottles covered every table. Someone had knocked over a chess set. A group of third years were attempting to dance on the leather sofa while an older student shouted at them to get off.

Pansy and Daphne were in the middle of the room, half-dancing and half-watching everyone else. Blaise was lounging on the far sofa with a drink in his hand, watching the chaos with quiet amusement. Lorenzo was by the speakers, making everything louder than it needed to be. Draco was next to him, arguing about something ridiculous. Astoria was perched on the arm of the sofa, laughing at them.

And Theodore Nott was drunk.

Usually, Theodore Nott had an impressive amount of control over himself. Sharp tongue, steady hands, perfectly calculated comments. Tonight, there was no calculation. Drunk Theo had none of those walls. His eyes kept drifting across the room, unfocused and far too honest.

Narrator: Theo's eyes drifted across the room. Y/n was by the drinks table. He noticed immediately. Of course he did. He always noticed. He'd been tracking her location since the party started, even if he was pretending not to.

Theo stumbled forward, catching himself against the sofa with one hand. His shirt rode up, exposing the pale skin of his lower stomach. His trousers, already sitting low, shifted just enough.

He glanced down at himself. Then his head turned.

Across the room, y/n was looking at him.

She froze.

Theo's eyes locked on hers.

Narrator: Theo caught her staring. His brain, slowed by firewhisky, processed it one word at a time. She's looking. She's looking at me. She's looking at my—

His lips curved into a slow, lazy grin.