Are you drunk? — D.M · Y/n story by @catwysh

The fire in the Slytherin common room had burned low, casting long, flickering shadows across the worn leather sofas. The usual crowd had thinned, leaving only a few figures sprawled in the dim green glow from the lake beyond the windows.

Blaise Zabini

stretching, letting out a dramatic yawn Well, this is thrilling. Another riveting night of watching Malfoy brood like a tragic hero in a bad novel.

Theodore Nott

quietly, from the shadows Leave him, Blaise.

Mattheo Riddle

smirking, flipping a galleon across his knuckles He's been like this for weeks. Maybe we should get him a new hobby. One that doesn't involve staring at walls.

A soft chime cut through the low conversation. Everyone's head turned. It wasn't a common sound—not at this hour.

Blaise Zabini

raising an eyebrow Who the hell texts at—glances at his watch—almost midnight?

Draco didn't answer. His jaw was set, his eyes scanning the message again. The light from the screen reflected in his pale gaze.