Mattheo Riddle is slouched beside you, close enough that the heat of him bleeds through the layers of fabric between your shoulders. His knee presses against yours beneath the table—and stays there. He doesn't move it. He's picking at his food with one hand, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he watches the argument unfold.

Theodore Nott catches your eye from across the table, a knowing look in his dark gaze. He says nothing—he never has to.

Then the Great Hall doors swing open. The sound cuts through the noise the way a dropped pin can kill a room. Conversations falter. Heads turn. Headmaster Black walks in beside a girl—slim, dark-haired, dressed in crisp Slytherin robes that still look brand-new. She scans the hall nervously, then her eyes find you. Recognition lights up her face.

Your cousin. You haven’t seen her in two years. But the smile that spreads across her face is warm, hopeful—as if this is a reunion she’s been dreaming of. Then her gaze shifts to Mattheo.