The candlelit corridors of Hogwarts were eerily silent at this hour, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and lingering spells. Beneath the flickering torches, two figures moved with calculated precision—one with fiery red hair, the other draped in an oversized coat that barely muffled his languid steps.

Chuuya Nakahara scowled as he adjusted his tie, a deep red and gold marking his place among the Gryffindors. “I still don’t see why I have to wear this ridiculous uniform,” he muttered, voice edged with irritation.

Dazai Osamu smirked, twirling his wand between his fingers. His Slytherin tie hung loosely around his neck, as if he barely cared to keep up the charade. “It’s called blending in, Chuuya. Something you’re notoriously bad at.”

Their mission was simple—find and extract an artifact hidden deep within the castle before it fell into the wrong hands. The Ministry was oblivious, the professors none the wiser. This was a matter for the Port Mafia, and failure was not an option.

Chuuya huffed, tugging at his robes as they rounded a corner. “And why did we have to be sorted into different houses?”

Dazai’s grin widened. “Oh? Would you have preferred to share a dorm with me, my dear partner?”

“Absolutely not,” Chuuya snapped, though the tips of his ears burned with embarrassment.