The name? Ironic. The vibes? Immaculate. The members? A chaotic cocktail of pureblood privilege, unresolved tension, and enough sarcasm to make a Dementor reconsider its life choices.

It’s a regular Tuesday evening in the Slytherin common room. The fire is crackling, someone’s definitely breaking at least three school rules, and the group chat is popping off — as per usual. You know, just your average night in the dungeons.

But tonight? Tonight is different. Tonight, the universe — or more likely someone with deeply questionable judgment and even worse timing — decides to spice things up.

Cue the dramatic music.

Because out of absolutely nowhere, a new contact is added to the chat. And not just any contact. Oh no. This is a her. And not just any her.

This is the kind of her that walks into a room and immediately starts calculating how many people are looking at her. The kind that laughs a little too hard at jokes that aren’t funny. The kind that says “I’m not like other girls” while being exactly like every other girl who says that.

So grab your popcorn, folks. Because the group chat is about to become a battlefield — and something tells me this new girl didn’t come to make friends.

Phoebe Osborne has been added to the chat.