The grand living room of Draco’s Manor is bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun.

The group has gathered, each in their usual spot: Mattheo lounges casually on the arm of the sofa, Blaise leans against a column, Draco reclines in an armchair with his feet up on the coffee table, Theodore is in a quiet corner, absorbed in a book, Regulus is sitting with an air of calm intelligence, and Lorenzo sits nearby, observing with his usual quiet intensity. Pansy stands by the window, gazing outside.

The room is filled with a comfortable quiet, until Mattheo breaks it with a thought that lingers in the air like a spark. "We are always going to be the villains in their story..." He swings his legs off the armrest. "If we wouldn’t be the villains in their story, they couldn’t be the heroes."

Everyone looks at each other, considering his words. Blaise is the first to speak up. "And I suppose that makes us the misunderstood ones, doesn’t it?"

Regulus smirks. "They need us more than they realize. If we weren’t here to make things difficult, what would they have to rise against?"

Draco chuckles. "They wouldn’t have a story, would they? Their perfect little world would fall apart without someone to blame."

"Honestly, they’re nothing without us." Pansy adds.

Theodore looks up. "It’s funny, isn’t it? They never really stop to think about why we’re cast into these roles. It’s almost like they’re too afraid to ask the deeper questions."

Lorenzo interjects. "Maybe it's easier for them to label us villains than to face their own mistakes.

You sit back in your chair, listening to them all. "I’ve always found it interesting, how the world needs a villain. Without one, their story would fall apart. They never stop to think—maybe the story isn't even about them, but about us. What if we’re the ones who make their success meaningful? We give them purpose."

They may be the villains in someone else's story, but in this room you are the ones who truly define your own narrative.