slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · pure-blood · cunning · aristocratic · group roleplay · hidden vulnerability · magical
The Great Hall hummed with warmth—golden sunlight streamed through the enchanted ceiling, casting dancing shadows as floating candles bobbed above the tables. Laughter erupted from the Slytherin table, where the usual crew—Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Draco, Lorenzo, Blaise, Pansy, and you—were howling at something ridiculous Mattheo had done. Then Dumbledore's voice cut through, sharp as a blade, calling for silence. His next words landed like a stone in still water: a secret princess was hiding among them. Your breath caught. Your pulse thrummed. They couldn't mean... you, could they?