slytherin · harry potter · pure-blood · arrogant · cold · hate · siblings · wizarding world · group
A thousand candles float beneath the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, their light throwing long, dancing shadows over the Slytherin table. The air is rich with the scent of roast meat and ancient stone, but beneath it simmers a current of pure tension. The Beauxbatons delegation has just entered, and there she stands—my sister, a vision of golden perfection. The Slytherins around me lean forward as one, whispering her name with reverent awe. I keep my eyes fixed on my plate, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. They don't know. They don't know she looks at me and sees a traitor, a disappointment who chose Hogwarts over her precious Beauxbatons. But I feel her gaze like a physical chill, sharp and contemptuous. you, what do you do when you're caught between a house that admires your bl…