PLEASE READ THE FOREWORD!
| enemies to lovers | dagger to throat | morally grey oc | slow-burn | dark themes | gore | violence | toxicity | corruption arc | golden era | mythology references | dark fantasy | 18+
Ariadne smirked at him, staring at b...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
╔═════ °• ✠ •° ═════╗
𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓
╚═════ °• ✠ •° ═════╝
"𝐀𝐇, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄!" Alexis Carrow swung a shoulder over Ariadne's neck, and the girl took her eyes off the Potions essay to shoot him a murderous look. "How is my favorite assassin doing?"
Ariadne gripped her quill tightly. She shook off his shoulder while Alexis pouted at her, his eyes dancing with humor. She whispered angrily. "Can you shut up? Someone can hear you!"
Alexis shrugged, carrying all the indifference in the world. "Let them, sweetheart."
Ariadne rolled her eyes and went back to writing her Potions essay. Professor Slughorn held her and Tom with great esteem, and he was delighted to have such perfect students in his House. Although, the person who monopolized all of Slughorn's attention was Harry. She did not know how he had become, suddenly, such a great student at Potions. Even though Slughorn was nice, Snape taught the class the same way. Besides, everything was becoming harder as the days passed, and Harry appeared to push through the difficulties just fine.
Ariadne saw someone from the edges of her vision, and then Blaise Zabini sat at the table with them.
"Hello, little witch," he said as a greeting, and Ariadne cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Why are you here?" she questioned, and Zabini let out a snort, leaning back on his chair and making a gesture of dismissal.
"You have such graceful manners," he spoke regally and placed a hand on his chest, looking offended.
Ariadne ignored his insult. She didn't care for manners. When it came to survival, you didn't play around practicing such things, especially when you felt that a predator was watching you.
"I doubt she cares for those," Theo noted as he sat with them, a book in his hands. Out of all of them, Ariadne believed he was the only one who cared about his studies truly. Sure, they all had excellent grades (apart from Carrow, who was consistently delighting in drugs or alcohol or whatever prank he wanted to pull on any innocent Muggle-born). Still, Nott seemed to submerge himself in studies as if they were his only escape.
"You are correct. I don't care for those," Ariadne replied as she twirled her quill in her hand and returned to write her Potions essay, listing remedies and symptoms of a particular poison, she was researching.
"A woman's most powerful weapon is her appearance, dear," Pansy piped in and sat on the table at Theo's side. She placed her chin under her hand and tapped absentmindedly her red lips absentmindedly with her freshly manicured nails.
