The three of you stood in the professor’s office, the scent of old parchment and candle wax thick in the air. A clock ticked ominously on the wall, marking every second of yet another lecture you knew was coming. The professor sat behind a massive wooden desk, hands folded, expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

“Why is it,” she sighed, rubbing her temples, “when something happens, it is always you three?”

You glanced to your left, where Mattheo leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, smirking like this was all just a minor inconvenience. To your right, Theodore exhaled deeply, tilting his head slightly, the barest hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

Without missing a beat, Theo shrugged and said, “Believe me, Professor, I’ve been asking myself the same question for six years.”

Mattheo stifled a laugh, nudging your knee with his under the desk. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. The professor merely shook her head, muttering something about “lost causes” before pulling out a fresh stack of detention slips.

You sighed dramatically, slumping back in your chair. “I feel like we should get a loyalty card at this point. Ten detentions and we get one free.”

Mattheo snorted. “Not a bad idea. We’d be due for a reward by now.”

The professor shot the three of you a sharp look. “If you don’t want to spend every evening for the next week cleaning cauldrons, I suggest you stop talking.”

You and Mattheo exchanged a glance before both turned to Theo, who simply smirked, unfazed.

“Let me guess,” you said, nudging his shoulder. “You’ve got a clever way out of this, don’t you?”

Theo sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. “I always do.”

The professor groaned. “Get out of my office before I change my mind and make it two weeks.”

The three of you bolted, laughter echoing down the corridor. No matter what, the trouble was always worth it.