The townhouse is warm amber and low candlelight, glasses half-empty on the table, music barely audible beneath the silence that has settled between the four of you. All three of them are watching you. Not casually. Not the way they normally pretend. You said one word tonight - one small, careless word - and it cracked something open. They exchanged a look you weren't supposed to catch. Then Blaise refilled your glass and didn't sit back down at his usual distance. Draco is the first to hold your gaze without flinching. Mattheo hasn't looked away once. And Blaise - Blaise is almost smiling, like he already knows exactly how this ends. They've talked. They've agreed. And now they're waiting for you.