“she’s not you” | tn · Y/n story by @dodi

The Great Hall was alive with the usual chaos of dinner—plates clattering, voices overlapping, the faint glow of enchanted candles casting warm light over the four house tables.

Blaise Zabini

You know, Pansy, I've been thinking.

Pansy Parkinson

Dangerous.

Blaise Zabini

ignores her, smirking The way the candlelight hits your hair right now... it's almost unfair to the other girls in this hall.

Mattheo Riddle

snorts from beside her Unfair? Mate, that was tragic.

Lorenzo Berkshire

grinning I dunno, Enzo—I mean, Blaise. I think it's working. She hasn't hexed him yet.

Daphne Greengrass

dryly The night is young.

Theodore Nott

doesn't look up from the sketch he's making on a napkin He's been practicing that line all week. Heard him muttering it in the common room.

Blaise Zabini

offended I don't mutter. I rehearse.

Draco Malfoy sat at the head of the group, watching the exchange with an air of detached amusement, picking at his food.

Pansy Parkinson

You're lucky you're charming, Zabini.

Mattheo Riddle

turns to Y/n, voice low and teasing Watch. Theo's about to lose it.

On cue, Theodore's pencil paused. His dark eyes lifted from the napkin, scanning the table—pausing on Blaise, then Pansy, then the space between them.

Theodore Nott

under his breath, in Italian Finalmente, un po' di azione.

Daphne Greengrass

raising a brow Translation?

Theodore Nott

shrugs, returning to his sketch Nothing. Just that it's about time someone made a move around here.

Lorenzo Berkshire

elbows Y/n He's cranky because he's the only single one left in our little group.

Theodore Nott

I'm not single. I'm selective.

Mattheo Riddle

snickers Tell that to the pile of charcoal sketches of faceless girls in your trunk.