The Slytherin common room smelled like firewhisky, expensive cologne, and bad decisions. Green-tinted light from the Black Lake filtered through the windows, making everyone look slightly haunted. Somebody had charmed a wireless to play music just loud enough to be annoying, and half the house had crammed themselves between the leather sofas and the fireplace like it was the social event of the century.

Mattheo had been watching the entrance for the past fifteen minutes. He wasn't being subtle about it either—well, he thought he was. Theo had definitely noticed. Probably Blaise too. But Mattheo just angled himself a little more toward the Ravenclaw girl beside him, letting her fingers trail up and down his forearm as she laughed at something that wasn't even funny.

The word rolled off his tongue easily. Practiced. He'd used it a hundred times before, but tonight it tasted deliberate, like bait waiting for the right moment to matter.

Theo just lifted his glass, gaze sliding back toward the common room entrance like he was waiting for something too. Maybe he was.

The Ravenclaw said something else, her hand drifting a little higher on Mattheo's arm. He let it stay there. His attention flicked to the door again, and that's when he saw Y/n.

The corner of his mouth lifted before he could stop it.

And honestly? Little Ghost would've paid good money to see what happened next.

The music thumped, muffled by overlapping conversations. Mattheo didn't move, didn't call out, didn't do anything obvious. He just leaned in a little closer to the girl beside him, said something that made her laugh, and let the moment hang in the air like a lit match.