You were sitting cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the low table with your three best friends gathered around you. Astoria had just placed a battered wooden box in the centre.

“This,” she declared, patting the lid, “is the box of fate.”

Pansy scoffed, leaning forward with a smirk. “It’s a box you nicked from the study room.”

Astoria ignored her. “Inside are the names of the seven boys who will be playing this season. Each of us will draw one name. You are that boy’s lucky charm for the whole year: you cheer him on, motivate him and make sure he’s hex-free before a match. Oh, and providing celebratory beer afterwards.”

Daphne gave a small smile. “You forgot the part about supporting them emotionally when they lose.”

“I don’t plan on mine losing,” Pansy said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

You looked at the box. It was such a small thing to hold such a big deal. Inside were slips of parchment, each bearing a name that carried weight. These weren’t just any boys... they were the boys.

Mattheo - the kind of boy who would flash you a grin before stealing your last piece of chocolate and talk you into thanking him for it. His hair was always slightly mussed, his eyes were dark with mischief and he had a talent for making trouble sound like an adventure.

Tom – nothing about him was accidental. His hair fell neatly into place and his gaze was calculated and unflinching. There was a quiet authority in the way he carried himself, and when he spoke, people listened. You never knew whether he was charming you or studying you like a chess piece, but either way, you couldn't look away.

Theodore – reserved, watchful, with the kind of intelligence that made people underestimate him... until they saw him in action. He had a habit of leaning just a little too close when he spoke. His words were laced with wry humour, leaving you wondering whether he was joking or flirting.

Draco – he could be insufferably smug, but he also had a rare self-assurance that seemed to bend the air around him. You could see how easily he could sway a crowd... or infuriate them.

Regulus - the quiet storm. He was elegance and restraint, with a rare smile that could take your breath away. There was a depth to his eyes that suggested he had seen more than he let on, and once he had given his loyalty, it was unshakable.

Barty – unpredictable. Wild. You never knew whether he was going to crack a joke or start a fight. There was an energy about him that made everything feel more alive when he was around, but also more dangerous.

Evan - clever and quick-tongued, with a knack for slipping in and out of trouble like smoke. He laughed easily and spoke even more easily. He had an uncanny ability to make you feel like the most interesting person in the room... until he moved on to someone else.

Seven names. Seven very different kinds of chaos.

“All right,” Astoria whispered, sliding the box towards the centre of the table. She rested her fingers on the lid for a moment. “Tradition says the first draw sets the tone for the whole season.”

Pansy leaned in with a mock-sweet smile. “Which is why you are going first. We’re not risking bad luck.”

Daphne gave a tiny shrug, though a faint smirk played at her lips. “Besides, we want to see your reaction before we open ours. Makes it more entertaining.”

The box was pushed towards you.

You could feel their stares on you as you slid your fingers inside. The slips of parchment felt identical, but your pulse sped up as though you could already sense which one was yours.

You picked one.

Astoria, Pansy and Daphne all leaned forward in unison, their eyes wide with anticipation.

You unfolded it slowly...

The name stared up at you...

"Which boy did you get?" Astoria asked you.