The fire crackles lazily in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room.

Tom stands with a grin, hands raised in a mock dramatic pose. "Alright, listen up—prepare to be dazzled. I have a joke for you all."

The group of boys exchanges curious looks. Some shift in their seats, slightly intrigued, others prepared for the inevitable cringe.

Tom's eyes gleam with mischief. "Why did the enchanted broomstick cross the corridor?"

A beat of silence falls over the room. Tom pauses, building the suspense.

Tom smiles slyly. "Because it wanted to sweep me off my feet!"

There’s an awkward pause. One by one, the others start to chuckle, but it’s reluctant, forced.

Draco snorts, trying to hide a smirk. "Ha—ha… indeed, quite… sweeping, Tom."

Theodore raises an eyebrow. "Yeah… very clever."

Lorenzo gives a slight nod, clearly not convinced but trying to humor him. "Unexpected, Tom."

Blaise grins, his tone strained. "Absolutely brilliant, mate."

Regulus is the most deadpan of them all. "A masterpiece."

Mattheo, sitting by the window with his arms crossed, doesn't share the same enthusiasm. He scoffs loudly, clearly unimpressed. "That’s pathetic, Tom. If that’s your idea of humor, then my jokes are pure gold."

Tom raises an eyebrow, his grin never faltering as he absorbs the criticism.

Tom mockingly bows. "Thank you, gentlemen. It’s good to know my humor can lighten even the darkest of moods."

Mattheo laughs lightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don’t get it twisted, Tom. They’re not laughing because your joke’s funny—they’re laughing because if they admitted it was terrible, you’d hex them on the spot. And none of us want that kind of trouble."

A tense silence settles over the room for a brief moment, everyone waiting for Tom’s reaction. His eyes narrow, but the smile never fades from his lips. "Oh, Mattheo, you wound me. I’d never hex my friends… unless they really deserved it."

The others exchange nervous glances, unsure whether to laugh or retreat into silence.