slytherin · harry potter · period cramps · cunning · cold · secret vulnerability · fantasy · ensemble · dungeons · ironic
Torchlight dances across the damp stone walls of the Slytherin common room, casting long, shifting shadows. The boys—Mattheo, Blaise, Tom, Draco, Theo, Lorenzo—sprawl across dark leather sofas, their laughter cutting through the dungeon's quiet. You, the only girl present, catch the tail end of their latest joke about menstrual pain. Tomorrow arrives, and a sleek silver device sits on the oak table, wires coiled like serpents. It hums softly. Mattheo leans forward, a smug curve on his lips. "Prepared to regret your words, you?"