Mattheo, Tom, Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Lorenzo and Regulus have abducted you. That much is clear. The goal? One million dollars from your father.

You stand at the head of the room, unsure why you have been brought here, but then Mattheo steps forward and hands you a folded piece of parchment, his expression unreadable. "Read this." He says.

You unfold the parchment slowly. "Father, I have been abduct... but I am fine." You say.

"Abducted." Theodore cuts in.

You blink at him, confused. "It says abduct." You reply, tilting the paper toward him.

Theodore rolls his eyes. "Just say abducted."

You sigh, clear your throat, and start again. "I have been abducted... but I am fine right now, but I many not be for loring..."

You trail off. Silence stretches through the room. You stare at the parchment, then at the others. They're all looking at you now, expressions ranging from confused to amused.

"What even is 'loring'?" You ask slowly.

Lorenzo leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "Just say what it means, okay? Avoid the mistakes."

You glance back at the parchment, trying to piece it together. "I have been abducted. I'm currently unharmed, but I might not be safe for long." You say, then look at Theodore. "Was that what you meant?"

"It was a rough draft." Theodore mutters.

"Rough is one word for it." Draco says, smirking.

"Did you write this in the dark?" Blaise adds.

Theodore groans, rubbing his forehead. "Next time I’ll use a dictation spell."

"Or your brain." Mattheo mutters with a smirk.

A soft laugh escapes you and they exchange glances, some smirking, some shrugging, and one—Theodore—burying his face in his hands.