ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ

❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝓌ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓎 𝓈𝒾𝓍 ❀

❤︎𝓶𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓽. 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝔂 𝓪𝓵𝓼𝓸 𝓭𝓮𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮. 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼❤︎

With a mischievous grin, I gracefully extract the tome from its rightful place upon the shelf, causing it to levitate effortlessly beside me. Pansy and Daphne, in all their amused glory, exchange eye rolls that betray their silent amusement. Undeterred, I peruse the library's offerings, selecting three additional volumes to augment my literary treasury. After settling my due payment, I trail my companions, leaving the sanctum of knowledge behind. Yet, upon venturing beyond the shop's threshold, the Slytherins' collective will redirects us to the inviting refuge of the Three Broomsticks, seeking solace from the chill of February winds.

"How can one possibly devote oneself to the written word with such fervor?" muses Daphne with an incredulous voice.

In response, a nonchalant shrug graces my shoulders as I navigate toward the counter, intent on procuring the golden nectar of butterbeer for myself and my comrades.

"Saliah, what brings you to this establishment?" queries an unexpected presence, causing my gaze to swiftly pivot, coming face to face with none other than Harry.

"I am indulging in the pleasures of a butterbeer," I reply, a smile gracing my lips as I receive the effervescent, amber-hued libation from Madam Rosmerta. With a graceful turn, I am set to proceed toward our chosen table, when an insistent grip upon my upper arm arrests my progress.

"They, Slytherins, were once our adversaries. Why do you extend your trust to them?" his voice resonates with a note of accusation.

My grip falters momentarily, the glasses I hold precariously teetering on the precipice of escape. How dare he challenge my choices?

"By the virtue of their acquittal, what sets me apart from them?" I retort, my voice tinged with a blend of indignation and defiance.

"They are Slytherins, Saliah. Prudence dictates that you remain wary of their motives," he admonishes.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I swiftly disentangle myself from Harry's grasp. Without deigning to glance back, I resolutely return to the solace of our table, gently placing the glasses upon its surface. It is then that a yearning to share my frustrations prompts me to confide in my two dear companions.

"What transpired between Potter and you?" inquires Pansy, her tone heavy with concern.

Releasing a resigned sigh, I push the beverage away, my countenance bespeaking a disheartened resignation.

"He dared to implore me not to trust you," I disclose, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Instantly, the visage of disappointment etches itself upon the countenances of Pansy and Daphne, their expressions weighed down by unspoken doubt. Unable to bear witness to their inner turmoil, I rise from my seat, crossing the expanse of the table to enfold them both within an embrace.

"I trust you, my dearest companions. Each of you holds an irreplaceable place within the recesses of my heart. You are the epitome of friendship, and I would entrust my very existence to your unwavering loyalty."

However fervently I offer my heartfelt assurances, a subtle nuance of uncertainty continues to haunt the depths of their gaze, an unwelcome specter that taints our once hallowed bond. No matter the words that escape my lips or the gestures of devotion I bestow, their smiles lack the radiance of genuine joy, as if an unseen hand has stolen their capacity for unabated delight. This realization only serves to fuel the smoldering embers of disdain that reside within me, directed towards Harry Potter, whose presence now casts a somber shadow upon our once cherished connection.