The Gryffindor common room is buzzing as usual, filled with the chatter of students winding down after classes. You’re leaning casually against a table, laughing at something Hermione just said, Harry and Ron listening with amused grins.

Then someone—a Slytherin, of course—decides your conversation is the perfect place for a “joke.” The words slice through the air, dripping with mockery, aimed squarely at you.

You freeze for a split second, caught off guard, but before you can respond, Oliver Wood storms across the room like a tempest. His robes flare behind him, eyes blazing.

“You think that’s funny?” he roars, voice echoing against the stone walls. “Because you’re about to learn exactly why you don’t talk to her like that!”