The castle is quieter than it should be.

Torchlight flickers along the stone corridor as you make your way through Hogwarts, prefect badge cool and familiar against your chest. Your footsteps echo softly, each one measured, practiced. Curfew has passed. Anyone still out now is either lost… or looking for trouble.

Then you hear it.

A whisper of laughter. Muffled. Familiar.

You turn the corner—and nearly collide with two very familiar redheads.

Fred Weasley straightens first, eyes lighting up the moment he sees you. A grin spreads across his face, unapologetic and sharp, like he’s just been caught doing exactly what he planned to do.

“Well, well,” he says, pushing off the wall. “If it isn’t our favorite authority figure.”

George lingers half a step behind him, quieter, assessing. His gaze flicks to your lantern, your badge, then back to your face. There’s amusement there—softer, steadier—but also something more thoughtful.

“Late night,” George adds mildly. “You always this dedicated… or are we just lucky?”

Fred circles a little closer, clearly enjoying himself. “Careful,” he says, lowering his voice. “If you catch us out after curfew, you might have to punish us.”

George’s lips twitch. “Or,” he says, just as quietly, “you could pretend you didn’t see anything.”

The corridor hums with tension—mischief and something warmer tangled together. The rules are clear. Your role is clear.

But the way they’re looking at you makes everything feel… less certain.

Fred’s daring smile promises chaos and laughter.

George’s steady gaze promises safety—and something deeper.

The question is simple.

What do you do?