She groaned, kicking off her heeled boots and wiggling her toes toward the fire. Her dark bob was plastered to her forehead with sweat.

Daphne, ever the pragmatist, was already re-braiding her long, pale blonde hair with precise, efficient motions. She hadn’t even taken her jacket off.

Astoria murmured from where she lay with her head in Daphne’s lap, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked every bit the delicate pureblood princess, even in a rumpled uniform.

Pansy sat up suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eye. She rummaged in her discarded practice bag, pulling out a small, cloth-wrapped bundle.

She unwrapped it with a flourish. It was a teacup. Not just any teacup. It was ornate, porcelain so thin it was nearly translucent, painted with what looked like constellations that shifted subtly under the light. It felt old. Powerful.

Daphne sighed, the long-suffering sound of an older sister, but she pulled her wand. With a precise, silent flick, she cast a mild Ausculto charm over the cup. It hummed faintly.

Astoria’s eyes lit up. She reached into her own bag and pulled out a small, leather-bound book with no title. Flipping to a dog-eared page, she traced a rune in the air above the cup with her wand tip.

The cup’s hum sharpened, becoming a clear, high-pitched ring. The painted stars on its side began to glow a soft, steady green.

The cup hovered between you all, pulsing with layered magic, waiting.