Chapter 5

The party continued into the night, and the atmosphere in the secret room was now thick and smoky, filled with laughter, shrill discussions and dancing shadows. The sound of music and magic was like the pulsating heartbeat of Slytherin, dominating the entire atmosphere. Y/n, who now found herself in a quieter part of the room after the incident with Goyle, kept looking at Mattheo, who was deep in conversation with a glass in his hand. But something in his demeanor made her doubt him - as if he knew more than he was letting on. Maybe, thought Y/n, it was time to get to know him better.

After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, Mattheo broke away from the group and made his way to Y/n. He wore a meaningless smile, but there was a spark of something else in his eyes.

"I hope Goyle didn't leave too many traces," he said as he walked over to her and sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs.

"He's an idiot," Y/n replied coolly, without over-dramatizing the situation. "I barely noticed."

"I assume that's a lie," grinned Mattheo. "If he had finished with you, you would definitely notice. Maybe not physically, but psychologically. He has this special way of hurting people without it being visible at first glance. But enough of that." He seemed almost bored, as if he wanted to cut the subject off quickly. "How's it going so far?"

Y/n was about to answer something when Barty Crouch Jr. suddenly appeared, his appearance exuding the opaque charm that many Slytherins exude. "Hey, you," Barty said in a light but cutting manner, "you like looking around here, don't you? But trust me, you're far from done, Y/n. Parties like this aren't always the right time to show yourself."

Y/n stared at him for a moment, and while Pansy's words of warning echoed in her head, she didn't let it bother her. "I'm only here because there's more to it than having your superficial fun," she replied evenly. Her tone was polite but cold.

Barty laughed briefly and then handed her a glass. "Drink first. You'll see how it feels to become part of something bigger."

She hesitated, then took the glass and sipped. It was bitter and strong, not like anything she'd tried before, and burned her throat slightly. Still, she couldn't deny a certain sense of relief - it felt as if the music around her and the increasing risk were swelling into a wave that swept her away.

Mattheo, who was now standing up, nodded at her. "Drink only if you want, but don't forget who you are here," he said, half jokingly, half warningly.

"It's fine," Y/n replied. "I understand the rules. After all, I'm not trying to get on anyone's nerves." She crossed her arms and sat down more firmly in her seat.

But as the conversation with Mattheo and Barty passed by, an inexplicable urge to find out more grew in Y/n. Why was Barty constantly looking for the opportunity to include her? Why was this vague, almost threatening pressure creeping up on her, especially after Goyle had gotten so close to her? It was as if every word and gesture she made now revolved around her perception of power and influence.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow moving almost silently through the door of the room. Regulus Black. Like an unsolved puzzle, he found his way to her, his eyes ominous and not very excited.

"Regulus," she greeted him without changing her posture.

He nodded briefly. "Goyle may play his games, but this room is not the right place for your lessons," he said low and slow. "Looks like you're learning to break the rules."

"Sometimes you can't help it," she replied quietly, letting her gaze slowly wander around the room. She felt the game developing, each conversation taking a new turn. But why did Regulus care so much about her?

He looked at her and then said even more quietly: "They're watching you, Y/n. Don't get the wrong idea. At some point, you and I will have to make a decision too."

"Decide?" She raised an eyebrow, but she could hear a certain risk in his voice.

"It's not just about you and what you can see," Regulus said, then turned away again. "I hope you're ready."

As he retreated into the shadows of the room, Y/n suddenly felt more and more like a chess piece, being moved by his opponents on several levels at once. She had crossed a line that was far deeper than simply dealing with the trivialities of Hogwarts. The place where she stood now would challenge her, fight her, and tease everything out of her.

The doors of temptation were open, but with every step she felt the force of a story that was coming to a head that she had never expected. And she knew that - nothing could hold her back.

The true test of Slytherin would begin when she had to decide for herself how far she was willing to go.

The music in the room continued to grow, and the dim light seemed to blur the boundaries between reality and intoxication more and more. Y/n felt restless, almost like a wave on the open sea, constantly moved by the alcohol. Her thoughts were floating, and the magic that gathered in this room blurred the events in a swirling mist.

The voices of the Slytherins danced through the air, and she herself had unconsciously become part of the game. The line between polite conversation and exuberant celebration slowly disappeared the more she drank. A final cup of the thick kettle feather was what tipped the scales. Her senses began to swim, and the room became wider, the colors richer, and the noise louder.

Y/n had the feeling that someone was approaching behind her. She turned slightly and spotted Mattheo, who mischievously handed her a glass. "Come on, let's test your progress, Y/n. You should enjoy this. The evening is ours... or what's left of it."

With a mixture of surprise and amusement, she took the glass and drank it in one go. The alcohol burned on her tongue, but made her laugh as the music got louder. Her thoughts continued to fly. It was a strange feeling to enter the room and its secret corners - not with caution, but as someone who was ready to go with the flow.

"You're pretty brave, aren't you?" Mattheo said suddenly, leaning closer to her as he caught her eye. She blinked a few times, then gave him a hazy smile. In that moment, everything felt light and overwhelming at the same time.

"Maybe I am," Y/n murmured, her eyes blurred from the tears and the confusion. She looked at him and only then realized how close he had come to her. Something in his gaze was no longer neutral, but more interested, followed by a clarity that she noticed from close up. She felt briefly uncomfortable and suddenly very close to him.

"You know," Mattheo continued, putting a hand on her shoulder, his grip pulling her a little closer to him, "there is something attractive about people who stay true to themselves, even if they don't know where they really want to go."

Y/n swallowed, then let her own words sound as if detached from herself: "And where do you want to go?" A slight giggle slipped from her lips. The words themselves didn't seem to come from her, but more from the irresponsibility of alcohol and the moment.

Matheo laughed deeply and honestly. "I don't know where this will all lead, Y/n. But right now I'm only interested in how you see the night. Maybe it means something that you're here. Maybe it's more than just fun."

Her heart beat faster as he said the words, and she could feel the pounding urge inside her that filled the room with tension. Her head was dizzy, but it suddenly felt like they could learn a little more about each other with every sentence, with every little glance.

Matheo was very close to her now, and when she looked at him, it was like a magnetic pull that she could barely understand. Suddenly he leaned a little closer, his hand moving more slowly over her shoulder, then briefly over her arm. "Remember the rules of the night," he whispered. "It's simple. No one has to know what's really happening anymore."

But before anything else could happen between them, the moment was suddenly like an image for Y/n that was blurred until she couldn't breathe properly. The world spun as she lost her balance and leaned unsteadily in Mattheo's direction.

"Come on, let's sit somewhere," Mattheo said gently, but with an unmistakable seriousness. He led her to a more comfortable chair away from the hustle and bustle, where she suddenly sank into the cushion. "Don't think about all that," he added quietly as he sat next to her, "you're safe here, okay?"

Y/n felt strangely protected and lost at the same time. She wanted to say more, do more, but the alcohol had slowed her tongue, and the quiet but haunting feeling she was feeling now slowly began to blur. The people around her, engrossed in funny conversations, disappeared behind the fog of her perception. Only Mattheo remained clear in her vision. And she could almost feel the light shimmering between them in the air.

"Don't worry," he whispered gently. "It was all just part of the game. You are not alone here, Y/n."

And in that moment - as their eyes met - she felt something strange standing between them as they grew closer. The night was still young, and what she felt was hard to put into words, but the feeling of closeness and the knowledge that the boundaries of this night would not represent anything terrible was exactly what she needed.

Whatever she was feeling now, whatever was developing between them and this crazy world in Slytherin - it was unstoppable. And in the darkness of the room, everything seemed inevitable.