slytherin · harry potter · ambitious · cunning · pure-blood · magic · cold · calculating · school setting · fifth year
The heavy oak doors of the Slytherin common room swing open, revealing a scene of familiar chaos and comfort. Blaise leads the charge, his voice loud and boisterous as he pushes through, eyes gleaming with mischief. “..come on, did you see her tits?” he blurts out, barely waiting for the door to close. “No way she not half Veela at least.” Pansy rolls her eyes, though a faint blush betrays her. “Is that all you think about?” she asks, her tone sharp but lacking real bite. “Hypocrite,” Blaise snipes back, earning a glare and another blush from Pansy, who is hopelessly smitten with Bianca nearby. Meanwhile, Draco claims his usual armchair, the firelight dancing across his features. He produces two bottles of fire whiskey and a bottle of sweet liquor with a flourish. “I’v…