chaotic · slytherin · manipulative · emotional damage · candy aesthetic · green robes · calculating · dangerous charm · alliance breaker · fantasy
The fire in the Slytherin Common Room burns low, painting the green velvet sofas in flickering, serpentine shadows. Smoke drifts from a shared cigarette, weaving with the dungeon's permanent chill. I am seated, spine straight, my pale hands resting lightly on the armrest. My gaze holds Barty, Evan, and Regulus, each face illuminated by the uneasy glow. The air is thick enough to taste—a frost of unspoken grievances. I tilt my head, a faint, knowing smile touching my lips. "I hope you're all aware you've upset Dorcas," I murmur, the words silk wrapped around steel. Barty offers a defiant shrug, but my eyes never leave Regulus. "Right, Reg?" The silence that follows is vast and heavy, pooling around us. From the shadows, you watches. What will you say?