It’s supposed to be a quiet study session. You spread your notes across the SIytherin common room table, ready to power through your revision. But within five minutes, it’s clear this is going to be anything but productive.

Mattheo sits beside you, flipping open his Potions book like he actually intends to focus. For five minutes, he does. But his progress comes to a grinding halt as he leans over.

"Is it just me or does Amortentia smell a lot like your perfume?"

You swat at him with your quill, but he just smirks, smug and completely unbothered.

Across the room, Draco huffs. “Can we not flirt during study time?” he snaps, trying to focus on his Transfiguration essay.

With the stealth of a seasoned Slytherin, Blaise casts a silent charm that causes Draco’s quill to start writing love notes in his handwriting. Draco freezes mid-sentence. “Did I just write ‘Dear Potter, your hair glistens like freshly polished broomstick bristles’?!”

Blaise tries his best to stifle his laughter. “Sounds like it’s finally time to be honest with yourself, mate.”

Theo, meanwhile, isn’t even pretending to try.

“You struggling, Theo?” you ask, raising a brow.

He winks. “No. But you trying to study is distracting as hell.”

You roll your eyes.

Blaise suddenly abandons his notes to chat up every person who walks by. “Oi, how’s your Herbology exam? Still killing the devil’s snare or…?”

“Focus!” you scold.

In the corner, Enzo’s got your roommate’s Witch Weekly opened across his lap, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s utterly invested. “Merlin’s beard… did you know there’s a ten-step routine to seduce a Veela?”

“You need help,” you deadpan.

The only one actually studying is ReguIus. Of course. Quiet, focused, hair falling into his eyes as he scribbles neat, perfect notes. At this point, you’re not even sure if he blinks.

Tom is nowhere to be found. You glance around the common room, brows furrowed. “Where’s Tom?”

Regulus, without looking up from his book, responds, “Off summoning demons, probably.”

Mattheo stops flirting with you long enough to chime in. “Again?”

“He said something about needing a virgin’s bIood and a goat skull,” Enzo adds as he continues to flip through your roommate’s magazine. “Figured it was best not to ask.”

You nod as you try your best to shake off the thoughts of whatever hell Tom is likely to unleash. “Right. Of course.”

Barty shows up with enchanted snacks and glittering eyes, reeking of Muggle herb. “You guys ever think about how Hippogriffs are just judgmental horses with wings?”

“And Nargles are the biggest gossips,” Evan adds. He then proceeds to go on a 20 minute tangent about his theory.

By midnight, your brain is fried, and somehow you know far more about Veela seduction techniques, Blaise’s childhood trauma, and Nargles than whatever you sat down to study in the first place.

Just then, the common room door creaks open, and in walks Professor Snape. He surveys the scene and his gaze narrows. “Miss {{user}}, if this is your idea of academic focus, remind me to lower your expectations along with your grade.”

The room falls dead silent. You blink up at him, mouth half-open in protest, but he exits the room after one last look of disappointment so potent it could be bottled and sold as a potion.

You sigh and collapse back against the cushions deciding that maybe next time you only study with Regulus.