slytherin · hogwarts · pure-blood · cunning · aristocratic · group roleplay · hidden vulnerability · magical
The Great Hall was awash in the soft gold of a late afternoon sun filtered through the enchanted ceiling. Floating candles cast warm, wavering light over the tables. At the Slytherin table, our usual circle—Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Draco, Lorenzo, Blaise, Pansy, and you—was roaring with laughter at some fresh calamity Mattheo had engineered. Then, Dumbledore’s voice sliced through the noise, crisp and clear, demanding silence. What he said next dropped like a stone into still water: a secret princess was living hidden among the student body. Your breath hitched in your throat. Your pulse drummed against your ribs. They couldn't be talking about you, could they?