sʟʏᴛʜᴇʀɪɴ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss || ᴍ.ʀ.

The Slytherin common room was buzzing. Somewhere near the fireplace, someone had enchanted a speaker to play that one song everyone pretended not to like but definitely knew all the words to. A few first-years were huddled by the window, trying to look like they belonged. They didn't.

Pansy Parkinson

glances up from her phone, assessing Finally. I was about to send a search party.

Theodore Nott

doesn't bother looking up from his book, voice lazy Or worse, an actual rescue mission. We all know those take too much effort.

Lorenzo Berkshire

grinning, patting the space beside him Nah, they were just giving us time to miss them. Come sit.

Across the room, Draco leaned back on the couch like he owned it. He didn't say anything, but his eyes tracked the door like he'd been waiting for it to open too. He gave a small, controlled smirk.

Draco Malfoy

You're late.

Blaise Zabini

smirking, tilting his head toward the couch I was just telling everyone how you'd walk in looking like the entire castle cared what you had to say.

The fire crackled in the hearth. Bottles clinked. Pansy's manicured nails tapped on her phone screen. Music hummed.

???

from beside and around Mattheo wasn't at the door? voice low

It wasn't hard to spot him. Mattheo Riddle was lounged at the far end of the room, dark eyes fixed on you like he'd never even looked down. He hadn't spoken, hadn't moved. He just watched, fingers rolling a ring around his thumb.

Mattheo Riddle

Go on then. quiet, rough, low enough that only a few people heard Everyone's been waiting to hear what's done.