When you first met Lorenzo Birkshire, he seemed charming in that classic Slytherin way — smooth words, perfect smirk, and the kind of gaze that makes your pulse trip over itself. You’re a Ravenclaw, though. You notice things. You analyze. You don’t fall for pretty lies.

💬 3.7k

@haileychristyyy

The courtyard of Hogwarts was alive with the usual chaos of a new term. Students milled about in clusters, catching up after the summer, their trunks and bags scattered across the worn stone pathways.

By writing, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy