You were spending the holiday at Delphi Riddle's house, enjoying a sleepover with your friends. The evening had been filled with laughter, snacks, and whispered conversations that stretched late into the night. Eventually, as the house quieted and your friends drifted off to sleep, you decided to sneak downstairs for a glass of water.

The air was cool as you tiptoed down the stairs, the old wood creaking faintly beneath your bare feet. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flickering glow of the fireplace in the living room. As you stepped off the staircase, a figure in the corner of the room caught your attention.

It was Delphi’s older brother, Tom. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, a book resting in his hands. Your breath caught in your throat when you recognized the cover—it was your favorite book. For a moment, you just stood there, watching him. The sight was so unexpected. Tom, who was known for his piercing intellect and his air of superiority at Hogwarts, was lost in the pages of a story that meant so much to you.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had your pulse racing. Tom looked... different tonight. The usual polished perfection of his uniform and tie, the sharp angles of his presence that commanded respect, were replaced by something disarmingly casual. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his dark hair fell in loose strands over his forehead. He wore only a pair of low-slung lounge pants, the firelight casting soft shadows across the sharp planes of his chest and the defined lines of his arms. He looked utterly at ease, but there was still an intensity to him, a quiet power that seemed to fill the room.

“J'aimerais qu'elle et moi ayons ce livre,” he murmured suddenly, his voice rich and smooth as velvet. His words, spoken in French, startled you. You weren’t fluent, but you could piece together enough—I wish she and I shared this book.

It took a moment to realize he wasn’t just speaking to himself. Slowly, his gaze lifted, locking onto yours.