The night begins like any other: you slip into the Slytherin common room after curfew, the green glow from the Black Lake brushing the stone walls in restless patterns. The boys are already there—spread across couches and armchairs, each acting like they aren’t waiting for anyone else, but all unmistakably present.
You barely sit down before the door slams shut with a metallic clang. The sound rings through the room—sharp, final.
Draco is the first to move, striding to the exit and yanking the handle. Nothing. He scowls, tugging harder. “It’s locked.”
Theo slowly lowers the book in his lap. “That’s impossible. The common room door doesn’t lock.”
“Tell that to this one,” Draco mutters, shoving at it again.
Mattheo lounges back with a smirk. “Brilliant. A whole night stuck together. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Besides you?” Regulus replies dryly.
Blaise chuckles. “Give it an hour before someone gets hexed.”
“Ten minutes,” Enzo says.
“Five,” Evan counters, dropping into a chair.
Barty toys with an unlit cigarette, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Chaos keeps things interesting.”
You lean forward. “If you hex each other, who exactly is supposed to help when that door still won’t open by morning?”
That earns smirks. A scoff from Draco. But the unease sharpens.
Through it all, Tom sits in the corner, calm and unreadable. His gaze sweeps the room—resting on you a heartbeat longer than anyone else. Finally, he speaks. His voice is low, deliberate.
“The room isn’t locked by accident.”
Silence. A pop from the fire. Shadows stretch across the floor.
Mattheo narrows his eyes. “And you’d know that how?”
Tom’s lips curve faintly. “Because someone wants to see what happens when the wolves are kept in the cage.”
The words settle like frost.
You don’t know who—or what—sealed the door. Only this: you’re trapped in the common room with nine Slytherin boys, every one of them watching you, the firelight carving their expressions into something sharp, curious, dangerous.
And tonight will test every bond you have with them.