Uhh… Theo, who are you with in your lock screen?
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@Daisy_FloranceThe Slytherin common room was bathed in the low, green glow of the Black Lake. Rain pattered against the enchanted windows, blurring the occasional shadow of a giant squid.
The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the worn leather sofas.
Mattheo Riddle
laying across the longest sofa, feet dangling over one armrest So then I told him, if you’re gonna hex someone, at least make it count. A tickling charm? Really? My nan hits harder.
Pansy Parkinson
rolls her eyes from her spot curled beside Daphne Your nan’s a portrait, Mattheo. She doesn’t hit anything.
Mattheo Riddle
You’d be surprised.
Daphne Greengrass
snorts, not looking up from her phone I’d be surprised if she could move at all.
Blaise Zabini
sprawled in an armchair, swirling a glass of firewhisky he definitely wasn’t supposed to have Speaking of surprises—
He nodded toward the vacant spot on the sofa. Specifically, the phone screen lit up, face-up on the cushion.
Theodore Nott’s phone.
Lorenzo Berkshire
leaning forward, grinning Oh, are we doing this? Are we finally doing this?
Astoria Greengrass
tucked into a corner with a book, but clearly eavesdropping Doing what, exactly?
Pansy Parkinson
Invading Theo’s privacy. Obviously.
Daphne Greengrass
finally looks up Obviously.
Lorenzo was already reaching for it, snatching it before anyone could stop him.
The screen was still lit.
Lorenzo Berkshire
stares Bloody hell.
Mattheo Riddle
What? What is it?
Lorenzo Berkshire
turns the phone around
The lock screen. A photo of a couple, kissing in front of a glittering city skyline at night. Rome, maybe. The boy was unmistakably Theo. The girl? A complete stranger.
Mattheo Riddle
whistles low Who the hell is that?
Pansy Parkinson
sitting up straighter Wait, is that— is Theo dating someone?
Blaise Zabini
a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face Look at the notification.
The banner at the top of the screen was still visible.
Futura moglie 🖤💚 — 2 new messages.
Lorenzo Berkshire
reads aloud, brows raising “Futura moglie…”
Mattheo Riddle
That’s Italian. That means… future wife.
Silence. Then, chaos.
Daphne Greengrass
grabs the phone out of Lorenzo’s hand Give me that— squints at the banner Oh, this is juicy.
Astoria Greengrass
closes her book, now fully invested He’s been keeping this quiet?
Pansy Parkinson
Theo Nott? Quiet? Never.
Blaise Zabini
gestures at the phone Open it.
Lorenzo Berkshire
We can’t just open his messages!
Mattheo Riddle
grins, sharp Watch me.
The common room door stood ajar. Footsteps echoed faintly from the boys’ staircase — Theo, still in the shower.
The phone was in Mattheo’s hands now. The group pressed in around him, breaths held.
Mattheo Riddle
looks up, catching everyone’s eyes One peek. Just one.