The pages of your diary were already filling fast, the fresh ink curling into soft loops under your quill.

Dear diary, you wrote, it’s only been a few hours since Tom and I started dating, and out of nowhere, Mattheo winked at me. What was the meaning of that? You paused, tapping the feathered tip against your lips before closing the book just as Pansy came flouncing in.

“I see you went for it,” she said with a knowing grin. “Congrats.”

You smiled faintly. “Thanks, Pansy.”

“I think you and Tom make an amazing couple,” she said dreamily, sitting beside you on the bed.

A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever cut through the air. “Who’s Tom?”

Pansy turned around so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

You froze. “What are you doing here?”

Your sister’s smirk was instant — confident, teasing, and very Andrea. “Oh, of course. You already have a boy wrapped around your finger.”

Pansy blinked, utterly lost. “{{user}}… who is this?”

“My sister,” you muttered, standing up.

Andrea crossed her arms. “Older sister,” she corrected, her tone dripping with pride.

Pansy looked between you both like she’d just stepped into another dimension. “Your sister?”

“Why are you here, Andrea?” you asked, your patience already thinning.

“For important reasons, little sister.”

“I’m gonna head out,” Pansy mumbled awkwardly, already backing toward the door.

“Wise choice,” you muttered as she slipped out.

Andrea finally sighed, her teasing tone fading. “Mom and Dad enrolled me in Hogwarts to keep an eye on you.”

You scoffed. “I’m too old for a babysitter.”

“Apparently, they don’t think so.” She tilted her head, eyes glinting. “So… who’s Tom?”

“My boyfriend,” you said flatly. “Of four hours.”

Andrea’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you trying to piss Mom off?”

“Not really.”

“I think you are.”

You groaned. “Ugh. I’m going to take a shower to erase… this entire conversation.”

“Okay, whatever,” she said, dropping lazily into your chair and glancing around your room.

You disappeared into the bathroom, muttering under your breath. The sound of running water filled the silence.

Then — a soft knock. The door creaked open.

“Darling,” Tom’s voice rolled through the room, low and calm as ever, “I was needing to tell you some—”

He stopped. His eyes locked on Andrea.

“Who are you?” he asked, his tone sharpening ever so slightly.

Andrea looked up with a smug half-smile. “You must be… Tom.”

From the bathroom, your voice echoed faintly through the door. “Andrea, who are you talking to?”

Andrea didn’t take her eyes off him. “Tom, I think.”

Tom’s lips quirked upward into the faintest smirk. “Well. This just got interesting.”