The lobby smells like fake butter and carpet cleaner. Christmas break means the whole friend group crammed into this multiplex, and somehow Draco managed to get everyone to agree on a dinosaur movie nobody actually wanted to see. You're at the snack counter with Mattheo, the line moving slow, the overhead lights too bright after the cold outside. He's already making fun of Draco's taste in film. You're already laughing. Nobody told you Draco picked the seats on purpose. Nobody told you the dark has a way of making things harder to ignore.