The Boys' Realization

Inside the common room, the boys had all gathered in a tense silence after Y/N stormed off. The once lively space felt unusually heavy, and they were all left grappling with the consequences of what had just happened.

Blaise, who had been silent for most of it, let out a long, shaky breath. "This... this was a mess." His voice, usually so confident, cracked under the weight of the situation. He rubbed his temples in frustration. "Mattheo's right. Y/N has been pushing limits, but he went too far. She spent hours perfecting that—hours—and he just ripped it off like it was nothing."

Theo, still sprawled out on the couch with his hand over his eyes, grunted in agreement. "I never thought we'd be in this position. I didn't think it would get this bad." His voice was low, and there was a hint of guilt, like the burden of the situation was weighing heavily on him as well. "She warned him, didn't she? She asked him not to—"

Enzo, who had been pacing restlessly, paused mid-step. His normally laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by a rare intensity. "She might have gone too far with the whole 'holes in her skin' thing, but Mattheo should have respected her boundaries. She's not just doing it for fun. It means something to her. She's expressing herself, and he just stripped that away."

Draco, who had been unnervingly quiet up until this point, leaned forward, his sharp gaze focused on the door to Mattheo's dorm. "We're all guilty here. We all let it get to this point. We watched as it escalated, and we didn't step in. I think we've been afraid of her. Afraid of what she's capable of, or maybe just of how much we don't understand her." He ran his hand through his hair, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. "But Mattheo... he crossed a line."

Mattheo's Regret

Outside the dorm, Mattheo was still standing in the hallway, his fist clenched tightly by his side, trying to suppress the feeling of being completely lost.

"Y/N, please..." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper now. He knocked gently on the door, every ounce of his being desperate for her to open up. He hated this feeling. It was like a weight had been dropped on him that he could barely lift.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her that he hadn't meant to hurt her. That he wasn't angry at her for doing it—it was just... it was the shock. The surprise that pushed him over the edge.

But the more he stood there, the more he realized that there was no quick fix for this.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, more to himself than her. He placed his forehead against the door, the cold surface a bitter reminder of how badly he'd messed up.

He could hear her soft sobs through the wood, a sound that made his chest tighten painfully. His heart ached in a way he couldn't quite explain—like he had broken something irreplaceable.

This wasn't a moment he could take back.

The Boys' Growing Realization

Back in the common room, the boys all exchanged looks of silent understanding. This wasn't just about a prank or a joke anymore—it was about Y/N herself. The moment had gone far beyond just a prank.

"She's been doing this because she feels isolated, hasn't she?" Blaise suddenly asked, his eyes wide as realization dawned on him. "She's showing us these parts of herself—literally and figuratively. And we're just... reacting. Not understanding."

Theo looked up at the others, his face drawn in concern. "She doesn't want us to pity her, but I think she's trying to find something in all of this. A way to... connect with us? Maybe a way to show that she's struggling but doesn't know how to ask for help."

Draco's gaze softened, and for the first time in a while, the usual snarky edge to his voice was gone. "I think we've been blind, all of us."

Enzo shook his head slowly. "She's been dealing with a lot more than any of us realize. This thing with her dad, her family... it's all connected, isn't it?"

Blaise leaned back in his seat, looking defeated. "It's not just the makeup. We're all so caught up in our own worlds, we forget that there's a reason she's doing all of this. A reason she's pushing us away."

The Attempt to Make Amends

As the hours dragged on, Mattheo couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to make things right. The others had already come to terms with the fact that they'd been too passive in the situation, and now, as they gathered together, they knew it was time to help Mattheo reach her before things got any worse.

Blaise finally stood, his posture grim. "You need to talk to her, Mattheo. She's not going to come out on her own."

Mattheo nodded but didn't speak. He was still processing everything, still replaying that moment in the pub when he ripped the illusion from her skin. He couldn't believe he had let it go so far.

Theo stood up and gave Mattheo a firm look. "She needs you, mate. Don't let this be the end of it. You owe her more than an apology. You need to show her you understand. Really understand her."

Draco, finally speaking up with the same level of wisdom he'd been hiding all evening, added, "We all do. Not just you, Mattheo. We all have to make an effort. She's our friend."

The Apology

Mattheo's steps felt heavy as he finally stood up, determination replacing the dread in his gut.

He approached the door to his private dorm and knocked again, his voice cracking with sincerity. "Y/N, please... open the door. I'm sorry. I didn't think. I should have thought."

A pause.

Y/N didn't respond right away, but he could hear the movement on the other side of the door.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. But I messed up. And I want to fix it. Please let me make it right."

The door clicked softly, and as it creaked open, Mattheo's heart skipped a beat.

Y/N stood there, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her posture stiff. But there was something else—something more vulnerable.

"I need time," she whispered. "I just... I need some space to think."

Mattheo nodded, feeling a deep ache in his chest. "Take all the time you need. But when you're ready... I'm here. I'm really sorry, Y/N. I don't want to lose you."

And with that, he backed away slowly, giving her the space she needed. But he couldn't help but feel like this was just the beginning of the hard road ahead. If she let him back in. If she trusted him again.

He didn't know what the future held, but he was going to do everything he could to earn that trust again.

Mattheo's Promise

Mattheo stood outside his dorm door, his hands trembling slightly as he rested against the wall. His heart was heavy with regret, and each moment without Y/N felt like a test he wasn't sure he could pass. He couldn't understand how he had let things escalate like that.

He stared at his shoes, trying to gather his thoughts, his mind replaying their argument in the Three Broomsticks, over and over again. He hadn't meant to hurt her; he had only reacted to the shock, the unexpected. But what about her? How had she felt the entire time?

How long had she been dealing with this feeling of being unseen, of pushing herself to the limit just to get a reaction from them?

When he knocked the second time, she hadn't opened the door right away. And that hurt more than he thought it would. The silence from the other side of the door, the weight of her emotions pressing through the wood—it was more than Mattheo could bear.

The door finally creaked open, and Y/N's eyes were red, her face blotchy from tears, but her expression was guarded. She looked like she hadn't slept in hours, the exhaustion and pain visible in the slump of her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Mattheo said quietly, taking a hesitant step forward. "For everything."

She didn't respond right away. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes wary as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, as if trying to shield herself from his words.

"I never should've done that. I should've asked you what you needed instead of just... acting." Mattheo swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I should've taken the time to understand why you were doing it. But instead, I let fear control me."

Y/N remained silent, her gaze dropping to the floor. She was visibly fighting the urge to break down again, her body trembling slightly.

Mattheo took another step closer, lowering his voice to a soft, sincere whisper. "Y/N, I know I hurt you. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life if I don't make it right. I was just... so scared. But that's no excuse. I should've been there for you."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Y/N shifted slightly, her gaze lifting to meet his, but her eyes were still filled with hurt. "You don't get it, do you?" she whispered. Her voice cracked slightly. "This wasn't just about the makeup. It was never just about the makeup."

Mattheo's heart twisted in his chest. "Then what was it about?"

Y/N took a deep breath, letting it out shakily before she spoke again. "It's about how I never feel like I belong. How I feel invisible sometimes. How I feel like everyone's afraid to really see me, afraid of what I'm capable of. I use this..." she gestured to her arms and legs, "to get your attention, to show you I'm here. I matter."

She wiped her eyes, a frustrated chuckle escaping her lips as she spoke. "But you ripped it away. You took it away without even thinking."

The air between them was thick with tension as Mattheo processed her words. His chest tightened as he realized the full weight of what she was saying. She had been trying to connect, trying to be seen, and he had been too wrapped up in his own reactions to even understand.

"I see you, Y/N," Mattheo said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't just see the makeup or the tricks you pull. I see you—the real you. And I've never been more sorry for not letting you know that sooner."

Y/N's gaze softened, but her lips were still pressed in a thin line. "I don't know if I can just forget what happened, Mattheo." She looked up at him, the vulnerability in her eyes raw. "I need time. I need to think about everything, about what I want, about how I'm supposed to handle this—us."

Mattheo nodded, feeling a weight settle in his stomach. "I understand." He paused, his voice more resolute now. "But whenever you're ready, I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."

The Boys' Support

Later that evening, after Y/N had retreated into the quiet of her room, Mattheo returned to the common room where the boys had been waiting. They had all tried to offer him support, but nothing they said seemed to help. The silence that had fallen over the room was deafening, as though they were all afraid to speak the wrong words and make it worse.

Mattheo walked in, his eyes tired and heavy. Without a word, he dropped into the chair opposite them, his hands rubbing his face in frustration.

Enzo spoke first, his voice quiet but understanding. "You did the right thing, man. You apologized. You gave her space. Now you just have to wait."

Mattheo looked up at his friend, his expression a mix of exhaustion and guilt. "I don't think I can just wait, Enzo. What if she doesn't come back? What if I ruined everything?"

Draco leaned forward, a rare gentleness in his eyes. "You won't know until you give her the chance to come back to you. She needs time to process it. And right now, the best thing you can do is show her that you understand."

Blaise added, "It's not about fixing it right away. It's about being there when she's ready to talk."

Theo nodded. "She's a lot more than her pranks. She's just... trying to find a way to be seen. To matter."

Mattheo ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I never thought about it like that. I've just been so focused on what she's doing that I never stopped to ask why she's doing it."

The boys gave him a moment to process, each one silently reflecting on how they'd treated Y/N throughout the whole ordeal. They had all underestimated how deeply her actions went.

Finally, Mattheo stood up, his gaze hardening with determination. "I'm not going to give up on her. Not like this. She means too much to me."

The others looked at him, their faces filled with a mixture of concern and support.

"Good," Draco said with a small, approving nod. "Then we've got your back."

The Days That Followed

For the next few days, Mattheo did everything he could think of to give Y/N the space she needed, while still making sure she knew he was there when she was ready. He left notes for her outside her door, messages of apology, reassurance, and patience. He left her favorite treats from Honeydukes, knowing they were small gestures but meaningful ones.

As the days passed, Mattheo's heart ached for her. Every time he saw her, she was just a little further away, her eyes clouded with the weight of what had happened, and he couldn't help but feel like he was losing her.

But every time he looked at her, even from a distance, she was still his Y/N. And that was something he couldn't lose, no matter how much time it took.

And when the day finally came, when she knocked on his door to speak to him once more, Mattheo knew that it would be a moment of reckoning.

But he was ready to face it. Ready to do whatever it took to show her that she mattered. Ready to listen—really listen—to what she needed.

Y/N's Decision

It had been three days since Y/N locked herself in Mattheo's dorm. She had kept herself occupied, going over everything that had happened, trying to process the overwhelming emotions. She had spent hours in front of the mirror, experimenting with makeup—something she had been doing for years as a form of self-expression. But this time, it felt different. It wasn't just about the makeup; it was about showing everyone what she had been trying to say all along.

Today, she was ready. Ready to show them the real reason behind everything.

The boys had been waiting, hovering outside the door, giving her the space she needed but also hoping for a chance to make things right. When Y/N finally emerged from the dorm, her eyes were still raw from the emotions, but there was something different about her stance. She was holding herself taller, like she had found some clarity.

She looked at Mattheo first, her gaze steady but not quite warm yet. Then, she turned to the others—Theo, Blaise, Draco, and Enzo.

"Follow me," she said, her voice cool and commanding. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for me."

The boys exchanged looks, unsure of what exactly she was planning, but they followed her without hesitation.

Y/N's Unveiling

It had been three days since the incident at the Three Broomsticks, and Y/N had spent the time in silence, only communicating when necessary. She'd locked herself in Mattheo's dorm, processing everything that had happened—everything she'd been holding inside for years. Today, she was ready to show them, ready to reveal the truth behind everything she'd been trying to communicate.

Y/N didn't just want them to hear her, she wanted them to see her.

She stepped into the common room where the boys waited. Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Enzo, and Draco sat quietly, unsure of what was going to happen. Y/N's gaze was cold, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes—a glimmer of the Y/N they knew, mixed with something more.

Without saying a word, she motioned for them to follow her. The boys exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed, trailing behind her through the corridors and into the room she had been using to prepare.

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with tension. A large mirror stood against one wall, surrounded by rows of makeup tools: palettes, brushes, and sponges all neatly arranged on a table. Y/N's gaze was steady as she turned to face them.

"Sit," she ordered, her voice cool but firm. The boys looked at each other, hesitated, and then did as she said. Each of them took a seat, unsure of what they were about to witness.

Y/N took a deep breath and grabbed a few tools from the table. She looked at them all—her friends, her boyfriend—and gave them a solemn look.

"You've seen the tricks. The scars. The cuts. But you've never understood the reason behind them. Today, you will. I need you to watch closely."

They were quiet, waiting for her to continue.

The Makeup Process

Y/N began by applying a dark base to her arms, her fingers working skillfully as she created the illusion of deep bruises and cuts. Each brushstroke seemed deliberate, as though she was unraveling pieces of herself and putting them out for them to see. She built layer upon layer, transforming her smooth skin into a canvas that told a story—her story.

"It's not just about the makeup," she said, her voice low but firm. "This is the only way I know how to express what I've been feeling. What I've been hiding."

Her hands trembled slightly as she blended the colors, but her expression remained resolute. She added jagged lines, shadows, and deep contours, mimicking gashes that tore through her flesh. The boys watched in stunned silence, each of them observing as the wounds took shape.

She paused for a moment, staring at her arms. "Do you see it?" she asked, her eyes flickering up to meet theirs. "This isn't a joke. This isn't just for attention. It's how I feel. It's how I've always felt. Like something's missing. Like I'm always on the edge of breaking, but no one sees it."

Theo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of how to react. Blaise clenched his jaw, guilt rising in his chest. But none of them spoke—none of them dared to interrupt as she continued her work.

Y/N moved to her legs next, her fingers working swiftly to create the illusion of torn muscles and exposed skin. Her makeup created the false appearance of bones beneath her skin, of ripped flesh, of a body that had been through so much. She laced the makeup with intricate details, carefully positioning the shadows to mimic the look of muscle fibers and bone.

As she worked, the boys looked at one another, each of them feeling the weight of her words pressing down on them. It was like they were seeing her for the first time.

"I do this because it makes me feel something," she continued, her voice quiet but filled with emotion. "When the world feels numb, when it feels like no one cares, I create these wounds. It's the only way I know how to be seen, how to make people look and pay attention. But you all think it's just a trick. You don't see what it really