Pansy wrapped Y/n in a tight hug, her perfume a familiar mix of something floral and expensive. She pulled back, beaming, her eyes bright with excitement.

She grabbed Y/n's hand and tugged them toward the entrance, not giving them a moment to catch their breath. The villa opened up into a grand foyer—huge windows letting in golden light, marble floors polished to a gleam, and fresh flowers arranged on every surface. It smelled like roses and old money.

Behind Mattheo, another figure stepped into the doorway. Theodore Nott, hands shoved in his pockets, dressed in a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and when his eyes landed on Y/n, a familiar grin spread across his face.

He said it with that easy, effortless charm that had always come naturally to him. His eyes lingered on Y/n for a moment longer than necessary before he gestured toward the hallway.