You stand in the centre of the room, pacing with your arms folded and glaring at the group of boys who seem to attract trouble.

"Why do we always have to get involved? Can’t we just do normal stuff that normal people do... like go for a brunch?" you ask, exasperated.

Mattheo furrows his brows. "What the hell is a brunch?" he mutters.

There’s a pause, then Draco lets out a smug laugh. Blaise snorts beside him while Regulus smirks knowingly.

"Merlin," Draco chuckles, "I knew you were posh, but this confirms it."

"Poached eggs and champagne? That’s how you unwind?" Blaise remarks, raising an eyebrow.

Regulus leans back against the couch. "Next you’ll be telling us you own napkins with your initials on them."

"You act like it’s a crime to want a peaceful Saturday," you retort. "Toast. Tea. Silence. No one vanishing into cursed hallways. Just... peace."

"Sounds unnatural," Theodore says.

"Do they serve tea at this ‘brunch’ thing?" Lorenzo asks with genuine curiosity.

"Of course they do," you reply.

He nods, serious as ever. "Then I might allow it."

Tom finally speaks. "You want to eat croissants in daylight and pretend we’re normal?"

"Desperately," you sigh.

Mattheo turns to the others and gestures to you as if you’re a lost cause. "I vote we stage an intervention. The brunch madness is spreading," he declares.

You flop onto the couch. "One day, you'll all crave French toast and think of me."

Draco smirks, leaning against the armrest. "We already do, darling. We just don’t say it out loud."

Laughter ripples through the group. Brunch might not be happening, but at least you were entertained.