PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT

It was a quiet afternoon in the Slytherin common room, the flickering fire casting a warm glow on the walls. Y/N sat comfortably in one of the armchairs, a soft bundle of wool in her lap as her hands moved in a steady rhythm. She had been crocheting for the past few hours, determined to make something special for Mattheo. His birthday was coming up, and she wanted to surprise him with something personal, something from the heart.

The rest of the boys were lounging around the room, lazily flipping through books or playing a game of wizard's chess. Mattheo was sprawled across the couch, his legs stretched out as he absentmindedly watched Y/N work. He didn't know what she was making, and part of him was too curious to ask. She had a way of keeping her secrets, especially when it came to surprises.

"I still don't get how you do it," Enzo muttered, staring at Y/N's hands in awe. "Like, how do you know where to put your hands? It looks like magic."

Y/N smiled softly without looking up, the yarn slipping smoothly between her fingers. "It's just practice. Once you've done it enough, you sort of get a feel for it."

"You're like a crocheting master," Blaise said, leaning back in his chair, his arms crossed as he studied her. "I don't think I'd have the patience for it."

"I barely have the patience to keep my hair neat," Theo chimed in with a smirk, glancing at his own tousled hair.

Mattheo, who had been quietly watching her work, raised an eyebrow. "You're making something for me, aren't you?" he asked, his voice teasing but full of curiosity.

Y/N shot him a sly smile. "Maybe," she said with a wink, keeping her focus on her crochet. "You'll find out soon enough."

The boys all exchanged glances, clearly intrigued. Mattheo's curiosity piqued, and he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he tried to get a better look at the soft, twisting yarn.

"Should I be worried?" Mattheo asked, his lips curling into a playful grin.

"Not at all," Y/N replied with a soft laugh, continuing her work. "It's a surprise."

As the hours passed, Y/N's crochet project began to take shape—a soft, thick scarf in shades of deep green and black, the Slytherin colors. She added a few small, intricate patterns in between the rows, personal touches that she knew Mattheo would appreciate. She had even managed to make it a little longer than usual, ensuring it would wrap comfortably around his neck.

Finally, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, Y/N set the crochet hook down, admiring her work. The scarf was finished.

Mattheo, sensing the end of the project, sat up straight. "So, what is it?" he asked, his voice softer now, the playful teasing gone.

Y/N stood, picking up the scarf and holding it out to him. "Happy early birthday," she said, her voice quiet but sincere.

Mattheo's eyes widened in surprise as he reached out, taking the scarf from her hands. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, his lips parting in awe. "You made this... for me?"

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I know it's not much, but I thought you'd like it. Something just for you."

The boys all gathered around, nodding in approval. Theo whistled, impressed. "That's actually really nice."

Enzo grinned, slapping Mattheo on the back. "Mate, you've got a keeper."

Blaise gave a low whistle. "A crocheting girlfriend? That's a rare find."

Mattheo, still holding the scarf, smiled warmly at Y/N. "It's perfect. Thank you," he said, his voice soft but filled with genuine appreciation. He stood up and wrapped the scarf around his neck, testing the fit. It was snug, comfortable, and exactly what he needed.

Y/N grinned, her heart swelling with happiness. "You're welcome."

The boys continued to tease Mattheo, but it was all in good fun. Mattheo, however, was too focused on the scarf to mind. He pulled Y/N into a gentle hug, the scarf between them, and whispered, "You're amazing."

Y/N smiled against his chest. "I'm glad you like it."

From that moment on, Mattheo wore the scarf almost every day, a reminder of Y/N's love and the simple, thoughtful gesture that had made his birthday just a little bit brighter. The boys never let him live it down, but Mattheo didn't mind. It was a gift that meant more to him than anything else.