Four years since Hogwarts, life had moved on. Or at least, that was what everyone liked to tell themselves. Yet somehow, the moment Daphne Greengrass announced her wedding. “No excuses.” That had been written in bold letters at the bottom of the invitation. So now they were all here. A luxury hotel overlooking the French coastline. Seven days before the wedding. Seven days trapped together. An absolutely terrible idea. Mattheo looked down at your shoes. Then back at you. “You know,” he said calmly, “there is a very simple solution.” “What?” Without warning, he bent down. “What are you doing?” “Matt-” Before you could finish the sentence, he lifted you into his arms. Effortlessly. One arm beneath your knees. The other around your back.