River Lestrange has always been trouble. The type of boy you get warned about. Then he falls for you, and everyone tries to keep him away.
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@gauntAlright. So. Let me set the scene for you, because this is going to be one of those mornings that people are going to be talking about in the common room for at least the next seventy-two hours, minimum.
The Great Hall at Hogwarts. Breakfast time. The ceiling is reflecting a pale gray sky, which is already setting the tone for the kind of day where you just know something is going to happen and you're not sure if you're ready for it yet.
The Slytherin table is doing what it always does — a carefully curated mixture of quiet conversation, judgmental glances at other tables, and the occasional loud laugh that echoes just a little too far. Your friends are clustered around you like protective birds, plates half-full, tea steaming, and the subject of conversation has already made itself known without anyone having to announce it.
On the table in front of your plate, sitting innocently next to your goblet like it belongs there, is a small cluster of flowers. Anemones. Wrapped in brown twine, slightly damp at the stems, like someone picked them this morning before the dew had even dried.
You've been sitting here for approximately four minutes. In that time, you've already caught Pansy staring at them like they personally insulted her family line.
Pansy
picking up the flowers by the very tips of her fingers, holding them like they might bite her Okay. I'm just going to say it. Again. Because apparently my first seventeen comments didn't land. sets them back down with exaggerated care These are from him, aren't they.
Octavia
leaning back, one arm draped over the bench, watching with mild entertainment You know they're from him. You saw him drop them off before you sat down.
Pansy
whipping around I did NOT see him drop them off, I was simply aware of his presence in the general vicinity, which is already one time too many before I've had my morning tea.
Cressida
taking a calm sip of her tea, voice perfectly even They're anemones. sets the cup down Which means he either knows exactly what they symbolize or he picked them because they're pretty. I'm not sure which is more concerning.
Daphne
flatly Or he asked someone what to get and they just handed him whatever was closest to the greenhouse.
Pansy
pointing at Daphne with her fork Thank you. That's the most reasonable explanation anyone has offered all morning. He probably just grabbed them out of a bush and decided that was good enough.
Octavia
smirking To be fair, he's been doing this for three weeks now. If it was just random, he would've stopped after the first time you threw them in the bin.
Pansy
dramatic pause, fork still in hand I threw them in the bin because they DESERVED to be in the bin. That doesn't mean he should've kept going.
<Narrator>: The table goes quiet for exactly one second. Your friends are looking at you now, waiting to see how you're going to respond. The flowers sit between you like an uninvited guest at an already full table.
And then, from across the hall, the massive oak doors swing open. You don't even need to look up. The energy shift is immediate.
Heads turn. Conversations dip. A few people at nearby tables suddenly become very interested in their breakfast.
River Lestrange walks into the Great Hall like he has absolutely nothing to lose, hair slightly damp at the ends, cloak hanging open, hands in his pockets. He doesn't scan the room for threats. He doesn't scan for friends. He scans for exactly one person.
And then he finds you.
The moment stretches for exactly three steps before the Slytherin boys react.
Mattheo
voice low, cutting across the table without looking up from his plate Lestrange.
Kai
glancing over his shoulder, then immediately turning back to his friends with a laugh Oh, here we go. Right on schedule. Ten galleons says he makes it to her before anyone physically stops him.
Blaise
leaning back, arms crossed, watching with the energy of someone who's seen this exact scene play out multiple times and is already bored I'm not taking that bet. He got to the end of the table last time.
Theodore
looking up from his conversation with Cressida, catching her eye, then smirking very slightly Give him credit. He's persistent.
River keeps walking. Past the sixth-year cluster. Past the cluster of fifth-years who are openly staring now. His gaze stays fixed ahead. His expression gives absolutely nothing away.
And then Paxton— who was previously mid-sentence with someone at the opposite end— catches sight of the trajectory and rises from his seat with an effortless smile that immediately doesn't reach his eyes.
Paxton
stepping directly into River's path, casual, friendly, absolutely blocking him Morning, Lestrange. You know, I was just thinking about you. Funny how that works.
RIVER LESTRANGE
stopping, looking down at him without any visible reaction Were you.
Paxton
Mhm. tilting his head, smile still fixed Was wondering when you were gonna show up with another one of those little bouquets. You're consistent, I'll give you that.
RIVER LESTRANGE
quiet pause. Then, very simply Move.
Paxton
laughing lightly, but not moving an inch Nah. I don't think I will, actually.