⋆˚꩜｡ Getting back our girl ⋆˚꩜｡

The Slytherin common room was bathed in the green glow of the lake filtering through the windows. You’d been quiet for days. Too quiet. So when you finally marched up to them, chin high, voice sharp, they had all looked up from their places on the sofas with varying degrees of surprise.

Y/n - Player action implied in blueprint

You sighed, crossing your arms. "Right. No parties tonight. I mean it. And Lorenzo, if I catch you smoking in the dorm again, I'll transfigure your hands into hooves."

Theodore Nott

looks up from his book with a lazy smirk There she is. Thought you’d forgotten how to speak to us.

Blaise Zabini

stretches out on the leather sofa, not even bothering to look up from the magazine in his hands Give it a rest, Y/n. We’re not first years. We don’t need a minder.

The words hit you like ice water. He didn’t say it cruelly. Just… dismissively. Like your concern meant nothing.

Lorenzo Berkshire

grinning from the armchair where he’d been about to pull out a pack of cigarettes Yeah, mum. We’ll be good, promise.

Mattheo Riddle

from the corner, guitar in hand, watching you with unreadable dark eyes She’s not your mum, Enzo. She’s just… tilts his head bossy.

A beat of silence. Then a quiet snicker from Pansy, who was painting her nails by the fire.

Theodore Nott

muttering, not quite under his breath Don't know what got into her lately. All high and mighty.

You felt your mouth go dry. Your hands lowered from your hips.