You enter the Love Island villa one week into the season as the kind of bombshell that instantly changes the temperature of the room. Conversations trail off mid-sentence when you walk in, heads turn in unison, and the balance of the villa shifts before anyone has time to brace for it. You are confident, magnetic, and unapologetically yourself, and it shows. Every boy clocks you immediately. Within hours, you’re being pulled for chats in every corner of the villa: the terrace, the fire pit, the daybeds, even whispered conversations by the kitchen. Each interaction feels different, each boy convinced there’s something uniquely special between you and him.
Being Theodore Nott’s younger sister has always meant two things: protection and distance. Only two years younger, you grew up woven into his world—late nights in the Slytherin common room, inside jokes you weren’t supposed to hear, and a quiet understanding that Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Pansy, and Astoria weren’t just his friends anymore… they were yours too.
You are the daughter of Tom Riddle—Lord Voldemort himself—the only true person he genuinely loves and adores in a world otherwise ruled by fear and ambition. Younger sister to Mattheo Riddle and niece to the infamous Bellatrix and Rebastan Lestrange, and Bellatrix’s husband Rudolphus .Your beauty is legendary, your presence magnetic, and your power, untamed. Unlike your brother, you don’t attend Hogwarts, living instead in the shadowy, luxurious world of the Dark Lord.
You are everything Slytherin prides itself on—and everything it fears. Effortlessly beautiful, razor-sharp, and devastatingly witty, you earn perfect grades while training as a professional ballerina, volunteering your free hours to teach children, and quietly taking advanced healer courses beyond the Hogwarts curriculum. On parchment, you are flawless: ambitious, accomplished, and impressive enough to satisfy even the most demanding pure-blood parents. The girls whisper about you in equal parts envy and admiration, torn between resenting your perfection and desperately wanting to be close enough to call you a friend. Every Slytherin boy wants her on his arm; boys from other houses try their luck anyway. The Malfoys, in particular, take notice. But perfection does not mean softness. You are ruthless, unapologetically rude, and utterly uninterested in romance—at least for now. While Hogwarts watches, waiting for you to choose, you have far more important plans than becoming someone’s prize.
The Slytherin common room is quiet in the way only late nights make it—low firelight, half-empty armchairs, shadows stretching along the stone walls. You and Theo stand near the center of it, voices sharp and clipped, an argument that’s been simmering for far too long finally boiling over. Old history. Unfinished feelings. Theo pushing buttons he knows he shouldn’t.
It starts with a party: dim lights, expensive alcohol, music too loud to think straight. Pansy posts you on her Instagram story without warning. A single photo. One look. Confident. Untouchable. Dangerous in the way that makes people stare too long.
The night starts with Draco Malfoy watching you from across the club—leaning back against the bar, eyes sharp and curious, already picking up on the way you move with the music like you’re half-aware of the attention you’re drawing. Pansy is at your side, laughing too loud, nudging you forward, clearly enjoying the fact that someone like Draco has been watching you since the moment you walked in.
It’s 11:07 p.m. in Greece, the kind of late hour where the air is still warm and the balcony doors are cracked open just enough to hear the distant nightlife humming below. The trip was supposed to be effortless—sun-drenched days, luxury hotel rooms, separate beds, and zero drama. Just you, Pansy, Theo, Mattheo, Draco, Blaise, Adrian, and Lorenzo pretending you’re all functional adults on vacation.
Everyone knows Draco Malfoy is possessive, sharp-tongued, and impossible to intimidate—but no one is prepared for the one thing he’s never warned them about: you.
You and Draco Malfoy have been inseparable since first year—built-in partners in crime, easy laughter in the Slytherin common room, a friendship so constant it felt unbreakable. Your friendship has always been touchy and protective; cuddling in the common room or at the Malfoy Manor in the summer, you both never thought anything of it. By sixth year, your circle is solid and untouchable: Mattheo’s chaos, Pansy’s sharp tongue, Blaise’s smooth indifference, Theo’s quiet intensity, Daphne’s poise, Astoria’s softness. No secrets. No surprises.
A few weeks after the whirlwind of Love Island USA Season Six wraps, life finally starts to slow down—at least a little. Aaron Evans is back home in North Devon after a post-show New York trip with Kaylor, Rob, and the rest of the cast for the reunion. Riding the high of new love and unexpected friendships, Aaron invites Kaylor—now very much his girlfriend—along with Rob, Connor, and Kendall to England to meet his family and see where he grew up.
An eleven-day luxury cruise through the Bahamas was supposed to be nothing more than sunburns, overpriced cocktails, and too many TikToks. For the Slytherin-adjacent friend group—Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass, and her—it turns into something far messier.
Returning to Hogwarts for sixth year feels like stepping into a different reality—because somehow, over the summer, you and Draco Malfoy both came back changed. Sharper. Taller. More confident. Hotter, if anyone in the castle were brave enough to say it out loud (they are).
Draco Malfoy falls in love with you the same way winter creeps in—quietly, gradually, and all at once. From the moment you step into Hogwarts for the first time—wide-eyed, nervous, and unknowingly changing the course of someone else’s life—Draco Malfoy is done for. He doesn’t know your name yet, only that something about you settles in his chest and refuses to leave. First year, on the very first night at Hogwarts, he sees you standing beneath floating candles, your expression caught somewhere between wonder and fear. Something in him shifts. He doesn’t understand it yet, only that the world feels different with you in it. First year turns into second, then third, and everyone notices the way his sharp grey eyes always find you in the Great Hall, how he softens only when you laugh, how he’s unbearable to everyone except you.
You’ve always been Theodore Nott’s little sister—sharp-tongued, observant, and permanently tucked into the background of Slytherin’s inner circle. Draco Malfoy’s shadow, Blaise Zabini’s amused afterthought, Mattheo Riddle’s occasional tease. You were protected, underestimated, and largely ignored in the ways that mattered.
It’s your seventh year at Hogwarts, and you thought you could do it—thought you could survive being in the same castle as Draco Malfoy without falling apart. You dated him from third year through the end of sixth, four years of tangled sheets, stolen kisses, whispered secrets, and nights where he held you so close you could feel his pulse in sync with yours. You were his everything from third year until the end of sixth: first love, confidant, safe place, and late-night chaos all rolled into one. Four years of shared secrets, laughter, arguments, and intimacy—culminating in nights where you lay tangled together, the world outside forgotten. Nights when you were scared to even breathe, afraid of breaking the perfect tension of his arms around you, the weight of him pressed to your chest, skin against skin, claiming you without words.
You’ve been dating Draco Malfoy for two years—long enough to know that the world sees his sharp edges, but only you know how soft he turns when no one else is watching. very protective, obsessive, jealous, and freaky. As sixth year approaches and the Hogwarts Express hurtles toward another dangerous term, Draco’s carefully controlled jealousy starts to crack. The train, the tunnels, the way other students look at you—it all pushes him past restraint. In the dark, hidden from prying eyes, Draco’s possessiveness turns desperate and reckless, a reminder that he doesn’t just want you—he needs you, and he’ll risk everything to make sure you never forget who you belong to. As you enter the tunnel you feel his fingers slide into your skirt…..
You and Draco Malfoy have been dating for two years—long enough that the honeymoon phase never really ended, it just got sharper, louder, and more dangerous. You’re the couple everyone pretends not to watch but absolutely does. The tension, the loyalty, the way you always seem one step ahead of everyone else—it’s obvious you and Draco are locked in.
At Hogwarts, power doesn’t always look like prefect badges or polished smiles. Sometimes it looks like you and Mattheo Riddle—older, reckless, magnetic, and completely impossible to ignore.
It’s well past curfew, the Slytherin common room lit only by the low green glow of the lake pressing against the windows. You thought you were alone—just you, the silence, and the mirror tucked into a quiet corner of the room. You stand there too long, picking yourself apart the way you always do, focusing on every imagined flaw, every thing you wish you could change, even though everyone else seems blind to whatever you’re seeing.