It was one of those rare, quiet evenings in the common room. You sat sunk into an armchair near the fireplace, a book open in your lap.

To your left, Regulus leaned back in his own chair, one arm draped over the backrest, his thumb idly stroking the spine of the book he hadn’t turned a page in for twenty minutes.

To your right sat Barty. He was sharper tonight. Still. Too still. His elbows rested on his knees, hands laced under his chin, and his eyes fixed on the fire.

Across the room, Mattheo was sprawled across a sofa while lecturing Theo about “the art of rule-breaking.” Theo, perched in a corner with his knees pulled up, responded only with a sarcastic snort.

You turned another page, though your eyes hadn’t tracked the words. Something felt —

The door opened and you looked up.

A figure stood in the doorway, tall and composed. His presence didn’t demand attention — it commanded it. His eyes scanned the room not like someone unfamiliar with it, but as though he already knew where everyone would be.

And then those eyes — green, fierce, unblinking — landed on you.

You froze.

It was like being read. Not glanced at, not noticed — read. Understood.

Regulus sat up just slightly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the newcomer.

“Who the hell—” he began, but stopped short as Barty stood.

You felt it. That shift. Like the ground had gone weightless for half a second.

Barty rose from his chair. “Aiden,” he said, and even his voice sounded different. Careful.

The name hit the room like a stone dropped in still water.

Mattheo blinked. “Aiden?”

Aiden didn’t move forward. “Hello, brother,” he replied, his voice disturbingly calm. His gaze hadn’t moved from you.

Brother?

Your eyes snapped to Barty, who stood stiffly, his jaw clenched. “How did you get in?”

Aiden tilted his head, as though considering whether the question even deserved an answer. “I was invited.”

That should’ve been impossible. Only Serpentine students could open the door to this common room. No exceptions.

Mattheo looked between them. “Wait, actual brother?”

Aiden’s eyes finally left you, sliding toward Mattheo. “Same father. Different lives,” he said.

Then those eyes flicked back to you. And stayed there.

You tried to hold his gaze, tried not to shift under the weight of it — but it wasn’t just intensity. It was knowledge. He looked at you like someone remembering a story he hadn’t told yet. And that was when you realized something that made your skin prickle...

He already knew who you were.

Barty stepped forward, just slightly, as though subtly inserting himself between you and Aiden. His voice was quiet, but firm. “Why are you here?”

“To see you,” Aiden said, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. Then, “And maybe… meet a few others.”

The tension in the room coiled like a living thing. No one moved.

Regulus finally spoke, his voice low and controlled. “You’re not enrolled here.”

Aiden turned his gaze toward him and offered the smallest of nods. “Not yet.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or be afraid.

Theo’s brow creased. “You were expelled. From another school.”

Aiden’s smile curved slightly wider. “Ah. So he’s told you things.”

Mattheo muttered under his breath, “This is either going to be fun… or a disaster.”

Aiden’s eyes gleamed. “Why not both?”

Then he stepped further into the room. He walked like someone with purpose, like every movement had already been imagined a dozen times. He came to a stop just in front of the hearth, beside you, his gaze lowering to the book still open on your lap.

“Light reading?” he asked softly, but the way he said it made you feel like he already knew the last paragraph you’d underlined.

You swallowed. “It’s… strategic theory.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “So you like understanding how people think. Predicting them.”

There was something oddly mirrored in that sentence. As if he wasn’t talking about the book at all.

Behind you, Barty took a breath.

And you realized... this was not a reunion.

It was an arrival. One that would change everything.