Lying · Y/n story by @matilda099

The Slytherin common room was a low-ceilinged, dungeon-like space, lit by the greenish glow of lamps and the shifting light from the lake beyond the tall, narrow windows. The air smelled of damp stone, polished leather, and old, expensive wood.

Pansy Parkinson

sipping a cup of tea Honestly, I think it’s a load of rubbish. Everyone knows it’s not true.

Daphne Greengrass

nodding slowly, her blonde hair catching the firelight Absolutely. The whole story falls apart if you think about it for more than two seconds.

Theodore Nott

staring into the fire, his expression unreadable Doesn’t matter what we know.

Blaise Zabini

leaning against the mantelpiece It matters what he believes.

The heavy wooden door to the common room swung open with a soft groan. A cold draft swept in, making the fire gutter.