little wolf · Y/n story by @hollyavery

The Slytherin common room was a throbbing heart of green-tinged shadows and low, pulsing music. The air was thick with the smell of firewhisky and expensive cologne, the black lake windows amplifying the laughter and the clink of glasses.

Draco Malfoy

leaning against the mantelpiece, watching the crowd with a lazy, proprietary air Try not to fall into the fireplace, darling. It would ruin the aesthetic.

Theo Nott

from a nearby leather armchair, a glass of amber liquid cradled in his hands She’s fine. Unlike you, who looks like he’s posing for a portrait no one commissioned.

A large, solid form detached itself from the shadowy recesses near the bookcases. Marcus Flint moved with a Quidditch-player’s swagger, his eyes fixed on you as he cut through the dancers.

Marcus Flint

Alright, Y/n? Looking a bit lonely over here.

His hand, thick-fingered and heavy, came to rest on your shoulder. The gesture was possessive, his grip a little too tight.

Draco Malfoy

pushed off the mantelpiece, his lazy demeanor vanishing Take your hand off her, Flint.

Theo Nott

was on his feet in an instant, his glass abandoned on a side table You heard him.

Mattheo Riddle slid from his perch on the arm of Theo’s chair, a silent, dangerous presence at Draco’s shoulder. Blaise Zabini, who had been observing the scene with an amused quirk of his brow, now stood, his expression sharpening. Lorenzo Berkshire materialized from the crowd, completing the circle. They were a wall of tailored black and cold, unyielding stares.

Marcus Flint

sneering, but his hand dropped Just being friendly. No need to get your wands in a knot.

Draco Malfoy

We decide who’s friendly. Piss off.

Flint’s jaw tightened, but he backed down, melting back into the crowd with a final, resentful glance. The circle of boys didn't break, their collective focus now entirely on you. The protective cage was back in place, as smothering as it was familiar.