clutching my chest. // 𝐌.𝐑 · Y/n story by @xttheaxl

The Slytherin common room fire crackled low and amber, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls of Theodore Nott’s sixth-year dormitory. The air was thick with the smell of woodsmoke, butterbeer, and the faint, musky scent of broom handle polish.

Theodore Nott

lounging against his headboard, a half-empty bottle of Ogden’s in hand Ennui. That’s what this is. Pure, existential ennui.

Blaise Zabini

from the armchair by the window, turning a page of his Transfiguration essay You’re bored, Theo. Not French.

Lorenzo Berkshire

sat cross-legged on the floor, shuffling a deck of Exploding Snap cards Seconded.

Draco Malfoy

perched stiffly on the edge of Enzo’s trunk, arms crossed If Nott says ennui one more time, I’m hexing him.

Pansy Parkinson

leaning against Draco’s shoulder, inspecting her nails Don’t be dramatic, Draco. It’s a real word.

Theodore Nott

See? Pansy gets it.

Mattheo Riddle

stretched out on his stomach across Theo’s four-poster, chin propped in his hands, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips You’re all overthinking it.

His dark eyes slid across the room and landed on you. The smirk grew.

Mattheo Riddle

Play fight.

He said it like it was a solution. Simple. Obvious.

Mattheo Riddle

pushing himself upright, grinning Y/n and me. No wands. No magic. Just hands.

Blaise Zabini

folding his essay shut, one eyebrow raised You want to wrestle your girlfriend in front of all of us?

Mattheo Riddle

I want to win against my girlfriend in front of all of you.

Lorenzo Berkshire

shuffling the cards louder The romance is truly staggering.