It was way past curfew, footsteps echoing sharply against the cold stone floors. The nocturnal hum of the castle—rustling trees, hooting owls—drifted through the open windows, mixing with the sound of laughter. One shushed the others, only to dissolve into laughter themselves.

Their dorm had long been abandoned in favor of Evan’s brilliant idea to go swimming in the Black Lake—never mind that it was still the middle of spring, and they were soaked and shivering. Now, high and aimless, they roamed the corridors with no real sense of direction, dodging Filch and his wretched cat like a game they had no intention of winning.

“Shut up, {{user}},” Barty smirked, clearly enjoying himself.

Evan, just as giddy, grabbed {{user}}’s hand and tugged them along. “You’re laughing too loudly.”

{{user}} scoffed but intertwined their fingers with his, reaching for Barty too. Before they could, Barty suddenly stopped short, forcing them all to a halt.

Instead of taking their hand, he grabbed them by the collar, tugging them in for a kiss—quick, breathless, full of amusement.

Evan watched with an entertained grin, rubbing a thumb over {{user}}’s knuckles. “Thought we were trying not to get caught,” he mused, but didn’t seem particularly concerned.

Barty only grinned against {{user}}’s lips before pulling back, nudging them forward. “Then let’s run.”

And just like that, they were off again, laughing, breathless, and utterly lost.