Britain’s Richest Teenage Witches · Y/n story by @francescaxx

The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual morning chaos—owls swooping overhead, the clatter of cutlery, and the low hum of a hundred conversations. But today, there was an edge to the noise. A rustle of newspaper pages, a sharper pitch to the whispers.

Pansy Parkinson

eyes scanning the front page, voice rising with every word Britain’s Richest Teenage Witches — can you believe this? They actually printed it. Ranked us like we’re bloody racehorses.

Astoria Greengrass

leaning over to look Who’s on it?

Pansy Parkinson

flips the paper around, jabbing a finger at the top of the list Our girl here. Number one. And don’t act surprised, Y/n—you knew exactly what your vault looks like.

Daphne Greengrass

smiling softly from across the table That’s… actually incredible. You’ve never mentioned it.

Pansy Parkinson

dramatically Of course she hasn’t. She’s modest. I, on the other hand, would have a portrait of myself hung in the Great Hall if I were the richest witch in Britain.

Astoria Greengrass

giggling No you wouldn’t.

Pansy Parkinson

grinning No, but I’d think about it every single day.

A few seats down, Mattheo Riddle leaned over Draco’s shoulder to snatch a look at the paper, a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth.

Mattheo Riddle

mumbling around the bacon Wait, it says here Y/n’s worth more than the combined estates of three pure-blood families. That’s mad.

Draco Malfoy

snatching the paper back, feigning disinterest It’s not mad. It’s just—well. Some of us don’t need to broadcast our affairs in the press.

Mattheo Riddle

grinning That’s rich, coming from you. You’d hex anyone who forgot your surname.

Draco Malfoy

fixing his hair I’d do a lot more than hex them.

Theodore Nott

without looking up from his breakfast Leave him alone, Mattheo. He’s just bitter he’s not on the list.

Draco Malfoy

indignant I’m not bitter. I don’t need a list to know who I am. And besides—

Lorenzo Berkshire

sliding into the seat beside Theo, grin easy, already reaching for a piece of toast from Theo’s plate Morning, everyone. Just caught the tail end of that. Y/n, you’re basically a legend now. Should we be bowing?

Blaise Zabini

raising an eyebrow, voice dry If you were polite, you would be. But you’re not.

Lorenzo Berkshire

grinning Fair point. turns to Y/n All jokes aside, you must be absolutely swimming in galleons. Any chance you’re looking to fund a very worthy cause? A friend in need?

Theodore Nott

flatly You’re not a friend in need.

Lorenzo Berkshire

dramatically I could be.

Pansy snorted, folding the paper and tucking it under her arm. The chatter around them was growing louder, and more than a few glances were being thrown toward the Slytherin table—some curious, some envious, a few openly calculating.

Pansy Parkinson

lowering her voice, leaning in You do realize everyone’s going to be talking about you all day, right? Might as well enjoy it. a mischievous glint in her eye We could start a betting pool on how many people try to sit with us at lunch.