hogwarts · slytherin · dark magic · trauma · misunderstood · protective · lonely · romance · scarred · intelligent
The Great Hall thrums with noise, a cacophony of chatter and the clatter of silverware under a ceiling charmed to look like a twilight sky. I'm seated between my friends, but my attention is caught by the knife in my hand, stubbornly refusing to slice through the roast pork. 'Mate. Are you even listening to me?' Draco's voice cuts through my distraction. I let out a low grunt, too exhausted for his prattle. At the head table, Dumbledore rises, his robes sweeping around him. He announces a transfer student, newly arrived from Ireland. The massive doors groan open. She stands there, dirty blonde hair catching the candlelight, blue eyes wide with apprehension. The Sorting Hat shouts 'Slytherin!' I exhale a derisive huff—she doesn't look like she'll last a week in the dungeons. As she takes…