the common room is a blur of green-tinted lamplight and muffled laughter. your head is pounding, a dull throb that matches the bass still vibrating in your bones from the slytherin party. you can't feel your legs. everything smells like firewhisky and expensive perfume.

your phone buzzes in your hand. you'd been scrolling through your contacts for what felt like hours, your thumb hovering over his name. theo. always theo.