They walked into the Great Hall like a spell had just been cast—one so powerful, it slowed time.
Ten minutes. That's all it had been. Ten minutes since Mattheo had dropped to one knee in the corridor with a ring clutched in his palm and forever in his eyes. Ten minutes since Lennon had said yes through tears and laughter and shock. Ten minutes since their friends had cheered so loudly it echoed off the castle walls.
Now, hand in hand, they entered the Great Hall like they were carrying something ancient and holy between them—love not new, but reborn. Her fingers were laced through his, the ring catching the candlelight from the floating flames above. Ruby and emerald. Gryffindor and Slytherin. Her and him. Us.
And behind them, their circle followed like a constellation pulled into orbit—Hermione and Ginny whispering with giddy grins, Angelina and Katie already arguing about color palettes, Luna humming softly, twirling a daisy between her fingers. Theodore and Lorenzo walked just behind Mattheo, both wearing identical smug, satisfied expressions. Dean and Seamus nudged each other, half-laughing, and Neville looked downright misty-eyed. Harry, walking quietly beside Ron, kept sneaking glances at Lennon with something warm and brotherly in his eyes.
No one needed to say it.
The proposal hadn't just changed Mattheo and Lennon—it had changed something for all of them. A little more hope. A little more light.
The moment they stepped in, the Great Hall fell silent. Completely silent.
Every head turned. Even the professors paused.
Eyes flicked to Lennon's hand. To the ring. To the way she leaned into Mattheo like she was anchored there. To the way his thumb never stopped brushing hers.
A ripple of whispers passed down each table.
"They're engaged—"
"Is that real?"
"Did you see that ring—"
"Wait, now? They just—what?"
They made their way to the Gryffindor table without faltering, sliding into their usual seats in the center as if nothing had changed—except everything had.
Lennon hadn't stopped smiling. It wasn't the kind of smile meant to be seen. It was the kind that settled into her eyes and stayed there, soft and glowing and endless. Her hand was still shaking slightly on the table, but Mattheo's was there to steady it. He leaned into her ear, murmuring something that made her laugh through the tears still clinging to her lashes.
"Okay," Hermione said, scooting closer, "how are you both so calm right now?"
"I am absolutely not calm," Lennon laughed, showing her the ring to the group around her for the fiftieth time.
Angelina gasped again like she hadn't already seen it. "That's insane. It's perfect. Did you help design it?"
Mattheo nodded slightly, brushing his thumb over Lennon's knuckles. "Wanted it to look like both of us. Something forged from both our houses. Something whole."
"It's gorgeous," Katie whispered. "This is actually happening, isn't it?"
"End of summer," Mattheo said suddenly, eyes never leaving Lennon's. "That's what I want. An end-of-summer wedding. Golden light, warm air, everything on the edge of changing. That's when I first started falling for her. It feels right."
Lennon blinked, visibly stunned by the tenderness in his voice. She pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart.
"You already picked the season?" Hermione asked, grinning like a proud sister.
"Don't act surprised," Lorenzo smirked. "He's been planning this in his head for weeks."
"And we are absolutely helping," Ginny said, slapping the table. "I'm seeing firelight, floating candles, maybe some soft magical music."
"An orchard," Luna said, dreamy as always. "One with trees that drop golden leaves, and lanterns that hover just above the ground."
"We'll write the invitations by hand," Hermione said, already mentally organizing. "Calligraphy. Cream parchment with gold ink."
"We need to make a wedding board," Katie said.
Angelina leaned over the table. "I want to coordinate the ceremony itself. We'll do minimal glamours, real flowers, and charm the aisle to sparkle when they walk down."
Seamus grinned. "Can I do the welcome toast? No speech. Just something charming and short."
"You'll still cry," Dean muttered.
"Will not."
"Will too."
Meanwhile, Ron was hunched over a piece of parchment, quill scratching furiously.
"Writing to Fred and George?" Neville asked, grinning.
"They're going to blow up the owl post when they find out," Ron said. "They'll want to throw confetti off the roof or something ridiculous."
"They'll definitely want in on the bachelor party," Lorenzo added.
Mattheo shook his head, smirking. "They're not planning anything unless I have veto power."
"You'll need it," Harry muttered.
At the Slytherin table, tension vibrated like a held breath.
Pansy sat frozen, her fork hovering over her plate, eyes locked on the newly engaged couple.
She looked murderous.
"She doesn't even belong in your world," she hissed under her breath.
"Pansy," Draco warned, not looking at her.
"She ruined everything," she spat. "He was supposed to choose better. Not—her."
Blaise turned his head slowly, finally looking up from his goblet. "You tried to ruin it and you failed. Accept it. And shut up."
Pansy opened her mouth, but Draco didn't let her.
"He loves her," he said plainly. "And she said yes. So you can either sit there and sulk or leave."
Pansy, for once, went quiet.
Back at the Gryffindor table, dessert had appeared, but no one was eating. They were too busy wrapped in plans, visions of lanterns and lace, music and vows. Every few minutes, someone would glance at Mattheo and Lennon, like they couldn't quite believe it.
Mattheo's hand still hadn't left hers. He kept running his thumb over her ring, grounding himself in the proof that this was real.
"I feel like I'm dreaming," Lennon murmured under her breath.
He leaned in close. "You're not. You're here. With me."
She turned toward him, eyes glassy again. "You really want a wedding at the end of summer?"
"I want you," he said. "But yeah. That time of year—it's like the light never quite leaves. Like things end and begin at once. It's how we started, remember?"
Lennon didn't answer with words. She just kissed him, soft and sure, right there in the middle of the Great Hall.
Nobody said a word. No one needed to.
Because emerald and gold had found each other.
And forever had already begun.