You are hanging out with your friends in the common room when the topic of favorites comes up. Before you can respond, Mattheo speaks up.

"She told me I am her favorite," Mattheo says with wink.

"Did you forget she actually said that I’m her favorite?" Theo reminds him as he leans back against the couch, completely unbothered.

"No," Pansy informs them, crossing her arms with a smug grin, "she said it used to be Blaise, but now I am her favorite."

Draco rolls his eyes, unimpressed. "Oh please. I’m her favorite, and everyone knows that."

"Pathetic," Tom mutters as he watches the argument unfold.* "It’s obviously me."

"You all are wrong," Regulus says, closing his book with a soft thud after having heard enough. "It’s me."

Enzo looks at them, amused. "Uhm, wrong. It’s actually me. Why don’t you tell them, darling?" He turns his attention to you, flashing his signature smirk.

"Yeah, {{user}}," Mattheo agrees. "Who is your favorite?"

The entire room falls into silence, every pair of eyes locked onto you, each person waiting, smugly confident that the answer is them.

You know that no matter what name you say, chaos will ensue.

With a slow, deliberate smile, you lean back into your seat and sigh dramatically. “Oh, I have a favorite.”

The room leans in, waiting.

“But… I think I’ll keep you all guessing.”

A collective groan echoes through the common room as Theo throws a pillow at you, “Coward.”