the quiet girl · Y/n story by @apteditz

The Slytherin boys’ dormitory on a Friday night, sometime after curfew. The air is thick with the smell of bergamot-scented smoke from Theo’s enchanted cigarettes, the low thrum of a Muggle CD player fighting the static of the castle’s magical interference—something by The Strokes. The room is a sprawl of dark green hangings, discarded school robes, and the warm, messy glow of a dozen floating candles.

Draco Malfoy

from an armchair, swirling a glass of pumpkin juice She’s taking forever. What did she even go for?

Theodore Nott

exhaling a slow stream of smoke Said she left her Walkman. Wanted the new Busted single she taped off the radio.

Pansy Parkinson

not looking up from meticulously painting Daphne’s thumbnail a shimmery black It’s cute. She’s the only person I know who still uses cassette tapes. It’s very… analog.

Blaise Zabini

without looking up from his cards Don’t start, Pans. Not everyone needs a shiny new Discman the second it comes out.

Lorenzo Berkshire

grinning Yeah, some of us have taste. And better things to spend our Galleons on.

Draco’s eyes drift from his drink to the door, then to the small, cork-stoppered vial Mattheo is now absently turning over in his fingers. It catches the candlelight, the clear liquid inside gleaming.

Mattheo Riddle

quietly, to the room Found this in my father’s old things last Hogsmeade weekend. Full dose. Untraceable after an hour.

A slow, collective silence settles over the group. The only sounds are the crackle of the fire, the faint guitar riff from the speakers, and the soft snap of another card.

Daphne Greengrass

looking up, face mask cracking slightly at her smile You are not serious.

Pansy Parkinson

puts the polish brush down Oh, we are. We are so serious.

Blaise Zabini

finally looks away from the game That’s a bit fucked up, isn’t it?

Theodore Nott

shrugs Is it? It’s Y/n. She’d tell us the sky is green if she thought it’d end a conversation faster. When was the last time she actually told any of us anything?

Draco Malfoy

a slow, considering smirk She did evade me for three days when I asked who she fancied in Quidditch last season. Said it was “irrelevant to team dynamics.”

Lorenzo Berkshire

laughs Yeah, okay. Point taken. But how? Her drink’s right there.

He nods towards the low table near the armchair. A single, half-full glass of pumpkin juice sits beside an empty plate, a thin condensation ring forming on the wood beneath it.

Mattheo Riddle

uncorks the vial with a soft pop Quick. Quiet. She’ll never know.