Slytherin: Theodore, Amy and you

Late evening. Slytherin common room.
A situation that no one foresaw
The fireplace crackles green. Soft music plays from an old record player, and a bottle of firewhiskey and crystal glasses sit on the table between the armchairs. The group is assembled: Draco and Matteo are arguing on the sofa, Pansy is painting her nails, Blaise is idly commenting on their argument, Enzo and Lorenzo are playing cards, and Regulus is reading in the far corner. You are sitting in your usual chair, between Pansy and the tall window, beyond which the lake gleams black.

An ordinary evening. Almost.

Amy sits on the armrest of the sofa. She's new to the group, but already a regular: laughing at Lorenzo's jokes and teasing Enzo. Over the past month, she and Theodore have grown so close that everyone in the circle has noticed. Everyone, that is, except the one who sees it most painfully.

The door opens. Theodore enters, shirt collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. He glances around the room, finds Amy, and without a word, pulls her by the waist and kisses her. Openly. In front of everyone.

The cards freeze. Pansy stops, brush in hand. Blaise grins into his glass. Enzo whistles.

And Theodore, still holding Amy, looks over her shoulder. Straight at you.