𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟎𝟎𝟑; sʜᴀᴅᴇs ᴏғ sɪʟᴠᴇʀ

SEPHTIS RAISED A BROW, at the hall that was silent as a funeral parlor.

"Any particular reason you are looking at me?" He asked them as if they hadn't witnessed him break up the very fundamental of spell crafting.

"Y-You— magic..!" A Ravenclaw had spluttered incoherently at a complete lose for words.

"Oh?" His voice was that of a spider silk, delicate
and beautiful with an underlying danger. "What about magic?" He asked.

"What are you?" Evan asked his eyes narrowed at Sephtis who looked unfazed. "After that spectacle, you can't be a mudblood. You have to be a halfblood atleast! Even maybe a pureblood taken away as a baby and grew up with muggles. I mean it isn't unheard of. As Faeries take humans into their world, leaving doppelgangers behind."

Evan tried to makes sense of this.

He really did. For it is impossible for a mere mudblood to achieve such a feet.

Spehtis gave him a judgmental stare.

"Did you just compare me to a changeling?" Sephtis in all honesty felt rather offended.

"What is a changeling?" A muggleborn first year had asked quite confused.

"They are deformed or imbecilic offsprings of Faeries who had been left in place of a human child or baby who had been stolen by the Faeries. Usually, it was the fairest, most beautiful children who were taken, because the Faeries craved and admired these traits. The child was taken for a few reasons, to act as a servant, for the Faeries to receive the love of a human child, or for malice and revenge." Sephtis had explained.

"I don't know if I should be offended. As Rosier just implied I'm a changeling, meaning I'm a deformed imbecile." Sephtis said dully.

Evan blanched realizing how bad it sounded

"You are." Regulus muttered under his breath.

"Regulus!" Barty hissed quietly getting Regulus's attention. "We don't argue with the person who just broke magic, mudblood or not."

"Lets just continue."

Sephtis adored sliver.

What Slytherin doesn't?

Especially when it is in the shade of
unicorn blood.

Many looked at Sephtis in disbelief.

He looked at his handiwork with about as much expression as a stagnant pond and coolly flicked his eyes between the creature, and then his hands.

Sephtis pushed a loose curl out of his face leaving a smear of sliver blood.

The animal's slashed throat continued to gush, though no longer rhythmically with the last beatings of their heart and rather on its own time. Their blood spilled all over his blazer formed a slivery pool at his feet.

Many felt sick at the sight.

Even the Dark Houses, look distributed.

He scoffed at his reflection he saw from the unicorn's blood.

As much as he adored sliver, he frowned at the splatters of it across his chest, up his neck and onto his face.

It was distasteful and messy.

Sephtis didn't like messy.

He knelt down and collected the unicorn's blood from it's neck seeping easily into the glass vials he brought along.