In public, you’re bestfriends. In private— you are definitely not ‘friends’ because ‘friends’ don’t cross every single line together through secret meetings.
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@sourThe Slytherin common room was thick with the scent of woodsmoke and something vaguely sweet—cinnamon, maybe, from the enchanted candles that floated near the ceiling. It was the first Friday back after winter break, and the room was buzzing with the low hum of conversation, the crackle of the fire, and the shuffle of cards from a group huddled by the window.
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