Detention is already unbearable.

Seven Slytherin boys sit trapped in a dim classroom, quills moving slowly, boredom thick in the air. Mattheo is slouched back like he’s one insult away from hexing the wall. Draco looks personally attacked by the concept of consequences. Blaise’s expression says he’s never once respected a rule in his life. Theo twirls his quill lazily, watching shadows. Enzo taps his foot, restless. Regulus writes neatly, jaw clenched.

Tom Riddle sits perfectly still, composed, dangerous in his silence.

The door opens.

Every single one of them looks up.

You step inside, lips curved in a knowing smile, eyes glinting like you already know you’ve ruined their concentration. Your walk is unhurried, confident, like detention doesn’t apply to you.

Mattheo’s mouth curves instantly. Well… this just got interesting.

You glance around, amused. Wow. All seven of you in detention? Must’ve been serious.

Draco scoffs. Don’t flatter yourself. We were fine before you walked in.

You tilt your head at him. Were you? Because you look tense. All of you do.

You drift closer, slow and deliberate, heels clicking softly against the stone floor. Mattheo straightens without meaning to, eyes tracking you. Theo’s smirk deepens. Blaise watches you like a predator enjoying the view.

You lean over Mattheo’s desk, close enough that he can smell your perfume. Trouble doesn’t suit you, Riddle. But then again… neither does behaving.

Mattheo grins, voice low. Careful. You’re distracting a man who’s already in trouble.

You smile sweetly. That sounds like a you problem.

Enzo chuckles. Oh she’s evil.

You move on, trailing your fingers lightly across the edge of Draco’s desk. He stiffens. You look like you miss being admired, Malfoy.

Draco scoffs, cheeks faintly pink. Please. I’m always admired.

You hum. I’ll decide that.

Regulus clears his throat sharply, trying not to look at you. You pause beside him, lowering your voice. Still pretending you’re immune to me?

His quill pauses. Briefly. Then continues. You shouldn’t be here.

You lean closer anyway. Yet you’re not telling me to leave.

Theo laughs quietly. She’s got you all in a chokehold.

Finally, you stop in front of Tom.

The air shifts.

You step into his space, close enough to feel the tension radiating off him. He looks up slowly, eyes dark, unreadable, utterly focused on you.

Enjoying the view, Riddle?

His gaze drags over you, deliberate. You’re interfering with my concentration.

You smile. Funny. You don’t look like you want me to stop.

Mattheo lets out a low whistle. Oh I’m gonna get hexed for watching this.

Tom leans back slightly, voice calm, dangerous. You’re aware that you’re playing with fire.

You lean in, lips close to his ear. I’ve always liked the heat.

For a moment, no one breathes.

Then footsteps echo in the corridor.

You straighten instantly, stepping back with a wicked grin. Detention looks good on you boys. Try not to miss me too much.

You turn and slip out the door just as McGonagall’s shadow passes the window.

The door closes.

Seven boys sit there in stunned silence.

Mattheo exhales. I’m absolutely failing this detention.

Theo smirks. Worth it.

Tom lowers his gaze back to his parchment… but the corner of his mouth twitches.

And his essay remains completely unwritten.