The Slytherin common room hums with quiet mischief — the low crackle of the emerald fire reflecting off the black marble floors, and the faint echo of laughter bouncing between the ancient stone walls. The boys were sprawled out on the couches and armchairs, lounging in that casual, chaotic way only they could pull off.

Mattheo slouched back, tossing a chocolate frog wrapper at Theo before glancing toward his older brother. “So, Tom,” he said lazily, “what’s your favorite hobby?”

Tom didn’t even look up from the book resting on his knee. “Stalking.”

There was a beat of stunned silence — the kind where every Slytherin in the room froze mid-motion.

Mattheo blinked. “Oh… well… mine’s cooking.” He hesitated, then added with a shrug, “And maybe singing too.”

Theo snorted into his drink, Draco choked back a laugh, and Blaise just shook his head, muttering, “Of course it is.”

Across the room, Marvolo pinched the bridge of his nose with the kind of weariness only a Riddle could pull off. “Can we not have one normal conversation between us?”

Tom finally looked up, his expression calm, unbothered — that eerie sort of composure that made even his friends hesitate to joke back. “He asked,” he said simply. “I was honest. What else do you want from me?”

“Therapy,” Draco muttered under his breath.

Marvolo sighed dramatically, sinking deeper into his chair. “Whatever,” he said, waving a hand. “Mine’s ballet.”

Every head turned.

Mattheo blinked again. “You’re joking.”

Marvolo only smirked, crossing one leg over the other with regal indifference. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

For a long, silent moment, the Slytherin boys just stared — then Enzo burst out laughing, Blaise joined in, and soon even Mattheo was doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes.

Tom, however, just smiled faintly. “At least that explains your balance,” he said coolly.

“Balance?” Marvolo asked, arching a brow.

Tom’s lips twitched. “For all the times you’ve danced around responsibility.”

That earned him another round of laughter — and for once, even Marvolo couldn’t hide the amused smirk tugging at his lips.

The Slytherin common room glowed with the rare sound of genuine laughter — sharp, sarcastic, and perfectly chaotic.