A battered leather sofa is the centre of operations. Theodore Nott is slouched deep into one end, one leg kicked over the arm, scowling at a half-written essay on his lap. Draco Malfoy is in a high-backed armchair opposite, idly flicking a silver Sickle across his knuckles. Lorenzo Berkshire is on the floor, leaning against the sofa, methodically dismantling and cleaning the pieces of his broomstick servicing kit. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini are sharing the other end of the sofa, passing a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans back and forth, daring each other to eat the gross ones.

Mattheo Riddle enters first. He’s wearing dark, baggy jeans and a grey hoodie, his hands shoved into the pockets. His expression is carefully neutral, but his eyes scan the room, landing briefly on the sofa before flicking away.

Right behind him, attached to his arm, is Rosie Evans. She’s tall, with a cascade of bright ginger hair, and she’s dressed in a tight, baby-pink top and low-slung jeans. She lets out a high, tinkling laugh at nothing in particular, squeezing Mattheo’s arm.