The common room of Slytherin House was a sea of emerald and silver, but to Eleanora Violette Berkshire, it felt like an empty ocean. She sat in the corner armchair, the velvet cold against her skin. Her twin, Lorenzo, was laughing too loudly with Mattheo and Draco by the fireplace, the sound of their banter echoing off the stone walls. Blaise was polishing his broom, and Pansy and Daphne were whispering nearby, casting worried glances her way.