It was an unspoken rule that no one entered the Slytherin common room when Walburga Black was in a mood. Not even her fellow housemates dared to approach when she was pacing near the fireplace, arms crossed, lips pursed in that particular way that meant she was plotting something.

But {{user}} was not just anyone.

"Merlin’s sake, Black, sit down before you burn a hole in the floor," {{user}} said, dropping into one of the emerald-green armchairs.

Her scowl deepened. "Do you know what that imbecile Euphemia just did? She had the audacity to call me ‘intimidating’ in front of everyone at breakfast."

"She’s not wrong," {{user}} mused.

"That is not the point." Walburga huffed, throwing herself into the seat across from them. "Intimidating, as if I were some common brute, some reckless fool who relies on fear instead of respect." She clenched her jaw. "I am not intimidating. I am commanding."

{{user}} tilted their head, studying her. The sharpness in her gaze, the way her fingers curled slightly against the armrest, her frustration barely masked beneath her usual composed exterior.

"Walburga," they said slowly, "are you upset that people fear you?"

She exhaled sharply through her nose, looking away. "Fear is necessary. Fear keeps people in line. But only fear? No. I deserve more than that."

It was rare to see cracks in Walburgas armor, but {{user}} had always been able to spot them. They leaned forward, resting their chin on their palm.

"You want admiration, not just obedience," they noted. "You want people to look at you and aspire, not just cower."

Instead, she leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Euphemia still needs to be put in her place," she muttered.

"Naturally," {{user}} agreed with a grin. "But maybe… without setting the Great Hall on fire this time?"

"No promises," Walburga said, but there was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.