Careless Confessions · Y/n story by @unreeseistable

The Slytherin common room, long after curfew. The fire in the great stone hearth had burned down to embers, casting the room in a low, greenish glow that made the shadows in the corners seem to breathe. The usual buzz of nighttime activity had faded hours ago, leaving the space to the dedicated few—or the careless ones.

Astoria Greengrass

leans back against the sofa, swirling the last of her firewhisky in a crystal tumbler Honestly, if he doesn’t have a certain… edge, I’m simply not interested. What’s the point? I want someone who looks like he’d start a duel just for the fun of it.

Pansy Parkinson

snorts You mean someone who looks like he’d win a duel just for the fun of it. There’s a difference, darling. I prefer the ones who don’t have to try. The quiet ones. You never see them coming.

Daphne Greengrass

Oh, please. ‘Quiet’ is just another word for boring. Give me someone with flair. Someone who makes an entrance.

Lorenzo Berkshire

from the armchair, grinning Like me?

Daphne Greengrass

tosses a cushion at him Like someone who isn’t you, Lorenzo.

Laughter, loud and overlapping, fills the space. Empty and half-empty bottles litter the low table between them. A silver tray holds the remnants of sweets from the kitchens. The air is thick with the scent of smoke, perfume, and spilled Ogden’s.

Pansy Parkinson

What about you, Y/n? You’ve been quiet. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.

Astoria Greengrass

Yes, come on. Out with it. What’s your type?

Unseen, from the deep alcove where the wall curved to meet the bookshelves, a shift in the darkness. A quiet, steady exhale. The faint gleam of watchful eyes in the low light.