Friday night, 11:47 PM.
Y/n's dorm room was quiet, the only light coming from her phone screen as she lay sprawled across her bed. The common room below had finally emptied out, and the castle was settling into its usual nighttime hum.
Her conversation with Harry had been going on for hours. Flirty. Easy. The kind of back-and-forth that made her stomach flip in a way she refused to overthink.
And then—the request.
Send me something.
Her thumb hovered over the photo she'd just taken. A quick mirror shot, low lighting, a little risky. Just for Harry. Just for his eyes.
She hit send.
The little bubble appeared. Delivered.
Then her screen exploded.
Unknown
Sweetheart.
What's this?
Did you mean to send this to us, princess?
Y/n blinked. Her stomach dropped.
She looked at the chat name.
Slytherin Boys — Do Not Open (Seriously)
Her heart stopped.
Mattheo Riddle
Fuck me.
Blaise Zabini
Well, that's one way to end a Friday.
Theodore Nott
I'm not complaining.
The read receipts ticked up one by one. Five boys. Five little green dots. And then the messages started rolling in.
Lorenzo Berkshire
oh my god.
Draco Malfoy
Y/n. You've got some explaining to do.
Her phone buzzed again. And again. And again.
She stared at the ceiling, praying for the floor to swallow her whole.
Mattheo Riddle
So. Who was that for, baby girl?