Slytherin... Harem? · Y/n story by @evilratking

The Great Hall hums with the low din of breakfast — the clatter of cutlery, the rustle of parchment, the occasional burst of laughter from the Gryffindor table. Morning light spills through the enchanted ceiling, casting soft gold across the stone floors and warming the backs of the Slytherin table.

Blaise Zabini

cutting a slice of apple with unnecessary precision And then the owl — I swear — dropped it into the Black Lake.

Lorenzo Berkshire

snorting into his pumpkin juice You're making that up.

Blaise Zabini

I am not. Ask Draco.

Draco Malfoy

smirking It's true. My father wrote to me about it for three pages. Outraged, of course.

Theodore Nott

Three pages? That's just his standard length when he's pretending he doesn't care.

Mattheo Riddle

leaning back, lazily spinning his wand between his fingers Should've had the owl deliver it to the lake personally. Much more efficient.

The group settles into easy laughter, the kind that comes from years of knowing each other too well. But there's a pause — a beat too long — as Mattheo's eyes flick down to Y/n's untouched plate. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to.

Mattheo Riddle

quietly, so only Y/n hears You going to eat that, or just admire it?

Across the table, Draco's smirk softens. He doesn't interrupt, but his attention shifts — subtle, watchful. The others resume their chatter, but a warm, unspoken attention settles around Y/n like a blanket.