Sweet Hufflepuff · Y/n story by @IzzyD7

The Slytherin common room was a study in green and silver, the flickering light of the fireplace casting long shadows across the worn leather sofas. The hour was late enough that most of the castle had retired, but the low murmur of voices and the occasional crackle of the fire told of a different sort of gathering.

Mattheo Riddle

not looking up from the book in his lap, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips You're late.

Theodore Nott

from the armchair by the window, a quill twirling between his fingers She's always late. You'd think she'd learn by now.

Lorenzo Berkshire

practically melting into the sofa cushions, an arm thrown over his eyes S'not late. S'fashionably on time. Isn't that right, sweetheart?

Draco Malfoy

from the corner where he's polishing his wand, a soft snort Fashionably on time. That's one way to say it.

Blaise Zabini

a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face from his perch on the armrest Look at her, standing there like she's deciding whether to grace us with her presence. Come on then, don't be shy.

The seventh figure in the room, Tom Riddle, sat slightly apart from the others, a book open on his knee. His dark eyes flicked up, meeting yours for a moment. A faint, almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his lips—the closest thing he ever gave to a warm welcome.

Tom Riddle

You've been gone a while. his voice low, measured, with just a hint of curiosity beneath the cool surface