HIDDEN REFLECTIONS

TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Theodore's leg bounces under the table like a restless drumbeat, a silent soundtrack to the tension that still lingers at our usual spot in the 'Three Broomsticks'. The Golden Trio's departure had barely lifted the atmosphere; it remains as thick and oppressive as a fog that refuses to dissipate.

I've never seen Theodore nervous before. His eyes dart around the room like trapped birds searching for an escape. I feel the same urgency, a desire to flee, but I'm rooted to my chair by the fear of what my departure might imply. Leaving now would paint me as guilty, and I'm innocent of anything but "accidentally" snooping on Draco.

Mattheo stands up abruptly, his hand extended towards me like a lifeline. For a moment, I'm bewildered, but then I grasp that this is my escape route. I take his hand, letting him mumble a flimsy excuse to cover our retreat.

Hand in hand, we walk back to Hogwarts, our silence as comfortable as an old, well-worn cloak. The brief journey is a quiet balm, soothing frayed nerves. I glance at Mattheo, relieved to see his eyes clear and free from the bloodshot haze of drugs.

"I'm actually tired," he chuckles, swinging our hands back and forth as we navigate the moving stairs.

I smile, a small, genuine one that surprises me. "I'm also tired, to be honest."

"Perfect," he replies, his eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky, guiding me forward as I let him lead the way.

My body sinks into the mattress the moment we step inside my dorm, and I nuzzle my head into the pillow, savoring the comfort. A few moments later, I feel the weight of Mattheo's body next to me. His hands move until he flips me up and around, and suddenly I'm lying on top of him, my head resting on his firm chest.

I listen to his heartbeat—steady and calm. His thumb glides up my cheek, tracing my skin with a feather-light touch.

I almost lose myself in the moment, leaning into his touch as my eyes close. I can't remember the last time I spent time with a sober Mattheo like this.

He nudges my forehead with his lips, humming softly until I look up at him.

"Hm?" I mumble, noticing the smile playing on his lips.

He looks tired, but his smile grows even more. "Nothing," he shakes his head, his eyes still locked on mine.

I brush his hair back, feeling him catch my hand in his before leaning in. His lips touch mine carefully, ghosting over them as he inhales, a gentle promise in his breath.

"Aurora tried to make a move on me," he says when we break away from the kiss. My head rests on his chest again, but the calm and secure feeling washes off me like water down a drain.

I reopen my eyes, staring straight ahead as the familiar emptiness returns. "Oh," I exhale. "Uhm, when?"

He is silent for a moment. "Last week."

I blink and then frown, because Mattheo still hangs out with her and talks to her like nothing happened. "A week ago?" I ask, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

"See, this is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd be mad," he says.

"I'm not mad," I reply, though what I want to say is that I'm just disappointed.