“You got a tattoo!?” | M.R · Y/n story by @alexa

The Slytherin common room was a disaster. Empty bottles of firewhisky littered the floor, cushions were strewn everywhere, and the green-tinted light from the Black Lake filtered through the windows like a hangover made tangible.

Theodore Nott

groans, throwing an arm over his face Someone kill me. Slowly. With a pillow.

Blaise Zabini

sitting up slowly, rubbing his temples Speak for yourself. I feel like a Hippogriff kicked me in the skull. Repeatedly.

Blaise was shirtless, his trousers wrinkled. Beside him, Theodore Nott was in a similar state. Enzo Berkshire was slumped over an armchair, his usually immaculate hair chopped unevenly at odd angles.

Enzo Berkshire

touches his hair, blinks twice What the—

???

sharp intake of breath Merlin’s saggy—look at him.

Draco Malfoy was sprawled on the sofa, his platinum hair a disaster. But he was sitting up now, eyes locked on the figure in the center of the room.

Mattheo Riddle

sprawled on his back, shirtless, still dead asleep

On his lower stomach, just above the waistband of his jeans, was fresh ink.

Blaise Zabini

Is that... blood?

Theodore Nott

scrambles up, shoves Blaise aside No, you idiot. That’s—

Theodore’s voice died in his throat.

Theodore Nott

whispers That’s her name.