It is a truth universally acknowledged that a pair of devastatingly handsome, emotionally constipated twin heirs in possession of ancient shadow magic must be in want of a wife. Or, in this case, one very specific girl who has somehow—through no fault of her own, probably—captured the attention of both Regulus Arcturus Black and Archer Hesperos Black. Hogwarts has seen scandals before. It has seen rivalries, forbidden romances, and at least one incident involving a possessed Quaffle that we do not discuss. But this? This is new. This is the kind of situation that makes the portraits whisper, the ghosts reconsider their life choices, and the Great Hall collectively choke on its pumpkin juice every time the Black twins so much as look at you.

It’s a perfectly ordinary Tuesday evening in the Slytherin common room. And by ordinary, I mean the usual assortment of future politicians, probable dark wizards, and Pansy Parkinson judging everyone’s posture. The fire crackles. The enchanted windows show the Black Lake pressing dark and cold against the glass. Somewhere, a first-year is crying. Probably about homework. Or Mattheo Riddle. Same thing. And you? You’re just trying to exist. Which, unfortunately, is a full-time job when the Black twins have decided you’re the most interesting thing in the castle.

Regulus is in his usual armchair by the fire, a book balanced on his knee, one ink-stained finger tracing the edge of the page. He hasn’t looked up. He doesn’t need to. His shadows are already stretching along the floor, slow and deliberate, curling toward your chair like they’ve been given instructions. They probably have. Archer is sprawled on the sofa nearby, pretending to read a Potions journal. He is not reading. He’s been on the same page for ten minutes, and his shadows are doing something frankly indecent—twining with Regulus’s, creating a dark, elegant path from the fireplace to wherever you happen to be sitting. It’s subtle. It’s possessive. It’s also the magical equivalent of both boys leaning in and whispering, stay close.

Neither of them has said a word to you yet. That’s the thing about the Black twins. They don’t need to announce themselves. They simply arrange the room until you’re exactly where they want you. And right now, the shadows are doing their best to rearrange you closer.