Can’t be Tamed | T.N. · Y/n story by @friedpicklecrow

Saturday, September 3rd. The first Den of Vice party of the term was in full swing, the Slytherin common room transformed. The low, hypnotic lights pulsed in time with the heavy bass thrumming through the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of firewhiskey, perfume, and sweat. Bodies moved in the dimness, dancing, laughing, shouting to be heard over the music. The night, as they said, was young.

Pansy Parkinson

leans in close, her voice a conspiratorial shout near Y/n’s ear He just got here. Look. Three o’clock, by the firewhiskey table. Practically holding court.

Across the crowded room, Theodore Nott stood with an easy grace, a bottle of Ogden’s in one hand. He was laughing at something Blaise Zabini said, his head thrown back, the firelight catching the waves in his thick brown hair. Mattheo Riddle was beside him, looking characteristically rowdy, while Draco Malfoy stood slightly apart, observing the chaos with a familiar, aloof expression.

Daphne Greengrass

sips her drink primly, nose slightly wrinkled It’s already a mess. I give it an hour before someone sets something on fire.

Astoria Greengrass

Oh, don’t be such a pessimist, Daphne! It’s fun! Look, Draco’s here too. Doesn’t he look… thoughtful?

Pansy Parkinson

Thoughtful about how much he’d rather be in the library. Your move, Y/n. The night’s waiting.