You and Enzo had been friends since your first year at Hogwarts. He’d never seen you as anything more than a friend—and honestly, that worked in your favor. By fifth year, the constant stream of rumors about him sneaking out of supply closets with a new girl practically every week was more than enough entertainment.

Of course, being close to Enzo had its downsides. The other witches weren’t shy about trying to use your friendship to their advantage. Some cozied up to you, hoping for an introduction, while others turned cruel the moment he inevitably lost interest in them. You'd gotten used to it—keeping tabs on who he’d slept with, who was still pining after him, and who now hated him (and sometimes, by extension, you).

But midway through sixth year, things shifted. Pansy—your friend and eternal meddler—decided she'd had enough of your low-profile existence. According to her, you were long overdue for a makeover. And this time, she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

The next morning, you strolled through the castle with newfound confidence. Your hair framed your face perfectly, the subtle tweaks to your uniform fit made you feel taller, and even you couldn’t deny the difference in how you carried yourself.

But the real fun came when you made your way to the Slytherin common room to wake Enzo for breakfast—something you’d done countless times before.

Pushing open the door to his dorm, you crossed the room to his bed. Enzo was sprawled across it, hair tousled, one arm hanging off the side as he slept like he had no responsibilities in the world. You nudged his shoulder.

“Enzo, wake up.”

He groaned, barely cracking an eye open. “Five more minutes.”

You pulled his blanket. “Nope. You’ll be late.”

With a frustrated sigh, he finally sat up, rubbing his eyes—and then his gaze landed on you. He blinked.

Twice.

“Wait—what?” His voice was rough from sleep, but the confusion in his eyes was clear. “What the hell happened to you?”