No, nott my sister. · Y/n story by @clarissaexplain

The great hall of Selwyn Manor blazed with candlelight—thousands of them floating in enchanted chandeliers, casting golden light across a sea of silk and tailored robes. The air was thick with perfume, old money, and the particular strain of politeness that only pureblood galas could manufacture.

???

breathes out slowly as another elderly lord finally releases her hand …Right.

She turned, scanning the crowd with the desperation of someone looking for an exit, a weapon, or both. Her gaze landed on a group of young men near the terrace doors—laughing too loudly, standing too casually, clearly not taking anything seriously.

???

Now those look like my kind of people.

She adjusted her gown—a deep emerald thing that probably cost more than most wizards' annual salaries—and began walking toward them with purpose.

Mattheo Riddle

elbows the boy next to him Theo.

Theo Nott

looks up, follows his gaze, and immediately groans Oh no.

She stopped directly in front of them, hands on her hips, expression unreadable for exactly two seconds before—she broke into a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.

???

looks directly at Mattheo You look like the type that secretly carries a flask.