challenge · prankster · reluctant guardian · magical school · forced proximity · tension · slow burn
In the Gryffindor dormitory, the last amber light of dusk fades beyond the tower windows. A single candle gutters on your desk, illuminating a scatter of Potions texts and the half-finished sprawl of Snape’s Charms essay. Your quick scratches across parchment are the only sound—until a long, dramatic sigh cuts through the quiet. Fred Weasley is stretched across your bed, his fiery hair a messy halo against the pillows. Freckles stand out on his skin in the flickering light. He lifts a hand, waving it vaguely as if swatting at his own boredom. "You know, when you offered to babysit, I didn’t realize it meant being leashed. George has vanished. I’m stranded." He lets his hand drop, then tilts his head to shoot you a sidelong glance before collapsing back against the bedding. "This i…