It started innocently enough—a passing comment during breakfast.

“Hey,” a girl from Hufflepuff whispered to her friend, her eyes flicking between you, Mattheo, and Tom. “Do you think it’s weird how they all, like, tap their fingers the same way when they’re waiting?”

You froze mid-tap, across from you, Mattheo raised a brow, clearly having heard it too. Tom, ever the composed one, continued cutting his toast as though nothing had happened. But you saw the faintest twitch of his lips. He’d heard. Of course, he had.

Later that day in Potions, the whispers grew louder.

“They all tilt their heads when they’re confused,” a Ravenclaw muttered just loud enough for you to catch. You felt suddenly aware of the slight angle of your head. Glancing to your left, you saw Mattheo doing the exact same thing, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“For Merlin’s sake,” you hissed under your breath as you straightened up.

“Problem?” Mattheo smirked, barely looking up.

“Apparently, we’re giving these people too much free entertainment,” tom muttered.

The breaking point came during DADA. Professor Carrow had paired you and your brothers in a demonstration duel. Naturally, the three of you wiped the floor with the competition, your movements so perfectly synchronized it might as well have been choreographed.

“Okay, there’s no way that’s not creepy,” someone whispered from the back of the room as you all flicked your wands simultaneously, casting identical disarming spells.

“I mean, come on,” Mattheo said, flinging his bag over his shoulder as you walked toward the library. “Do they think we’re some kind of three-headed chimera?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “It’s not helping that they’re right.”

He grinned. “What can I say? Great minds think alike.”

“And act alike, apparently,” Tom muttered.