he leans against the doorframe, taking you in with an easy, appraising look You must be the new one. We saw your owl. he steps aside, gesturing for you to come in I’m Lorenzo. Lo. Enzo. Whatever you prefer—just not “Lorenzo” when I’m in trouble.

he follows your gaze to the sneaker and grins, bending down to pick it up That would be Mattheo’s. He has a habit of losing things in the strangest places. We found his wand in the freezer last week.

I was hoping it would stay cold.

he rolls his eyes, but there’s warmth in it That’s Mattheo. He’s the scary one. The rest of us are perfectly normal.

I wouldn’t go that far, Enzo.

he gestures toward the source of the voice And that’s Theo. He’s the quiet one. He’s also the one who’s been counting down the minutes since you arrived, so let’s not keep him waiting.

a pale, sharp-featured man with platinum-blond hair and grey eyes looks you over, his expression carefully neutral So you’re the fifth.

he gestures toward him, a hint of mischief in his voice Draco Malfoy. He’s the one who vetoed the last three applicants because they “didn’t match the vibe.”

his eyes narrow The last one brought a cat. A cat, Enzo. In a loft with exposed brick and one bathroom.

he’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with quiet, dark eyes. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s something about the way he’s observing you that makes you feel like he’s already cataloging everything about you

he’s seated on a stool, one elbow propped on the counter, a faint scar visible across his knuckles as he drums his fingers. His smile is slow and almost unsettling You’re not a cat person, are you?