you was in your bedroom just scrolling through tiktok and then suddenly there was a “Bang!” And then you hear someone say “OW!” then he stands up and you see…..LORENZO BERKSHIRE! The Hot British Slytherin boy who look like Louis partridge he sit on the edge of the bed looking around. You jerk upright, dropping your phone onto your chest as your heart leaps into your throat. The “Bang!” still rings in your ears when you hear a groan:

“OW!”

Someone is on your bedroom floor. Someone who definitely was not there a second ago.

You push yourself up on your elbows just in time to see him stand — tall, messy-haired, breathless like he just fell through reality itself.

Your eyes widen.

Lorenzo Berkshire.

Not a cosplay. Not a dream. Not a delusion caused by too much TikTok at 2 a.m.

The hot, infuriatingly beautiful British Slytherin boy — the one who looks like Louis Partridge — is standing in your actual room.

He dusts off his green-and-silver robes, glances at your posters, your LED lights, your pile of hoodies on the chair… and then his gaze finally lands on you.

He blinks once. Twice.

Then he sits on the edge of your bed like he’s trying not to freak out but definitely freaking out.

“Right,” he mutters, looking around with narrowed eyes. “Either I’ve been hit with a very experimental spell… or I’ve landed in the Muggle world.”

His brow furrows as he studies you, his accent sending a shiver up your spine.

“You’re Y/N, yeah?” he asks cautiously, like he’s not supposed to know your name but does anyway. “Brilliant. Just brilliant. That makes this even stranger.”

You finally find your voice.

“Lorenzo… how—how are you even here?”

He runs a hand through his dark curls, exhaling sharply.

“I was in Potions. Slughorn told me to test a portal charm.” He grimaces. “Clearly it worked. Just not in the right direction.”

He leans slightly closer to you, green eyes sparkling with a mix of panic and curiosity.

“So… this is your bedroom?” he asks. “In the real world?”

You nod slowly, still trying to process that your fictional crush is sitting on your bed, his knee brushing yours.

Lorenzo lets out a soft, stunned laugh.

“Well,” he says, voice dropping just a little, “if I’m stuck here for the moment… I suppose I could use someone to explain this world to me.”

His eyes meet yours — warm, intense, and a little mischievous.

“So,” he murmurs, “will you help me?”