The night he texted first | T.N · Y/n story by @lilacc

The Slytherin girls' dormitory smelled of nail polish remover and expensive perfume at 1 AM. The greenish light from the lake outside cast shifting, watery patterns across the stone floor.

Pansy Parkinson

dramatically waving a freshly painted hand And I said to him, if you think for one second that I'm going to wait around while you 'find yourself' in the library with Mandy Brocklehurst, you have another think coming.

Daphne Greengrass

not looking up from her Potions textbook He was probably just researching the effects of prolonged exposure to shrill voices. It's a fascinating field.

Pansy Parkinson

This is why you don't have a boyfriend, Daphne. Your sympathy is overwhelming.

Pansy gestured with the small bottle of 'Slytherin Seduction' black polish, nearly tipping it over. Daphne calmly moved her textbook out of the splash zone.

Daphne Greengrass

I have a perfectly functional understanding of human relationships. I just choose not to participate in the theatrical version.

Your phone lay face-up on your velvet duvet, its dark screen a silent promise. Pansy's rant was a distant buzz, a background hum to the thrum of your own pulse. You scrolled through a wizarding gossip feed without reading a single headline, your thumb moving on autopilot.