𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥

Stung

Meeting with Albus Dumbledore had been a necessary formality, a routine welcome that covered timetables and dormitory arrangements. He explained that I would be sharing a room with Darcy Malfoy, Draco's younger sister. I nodded along, enduring the tedious details. He should have known what he was getting into when he invited me here.

As I exited his office, the Slytherin group awaited me, Draco at the forefront, his hand firmly holding one of the boys back. His eyes met mine. "With your sister," I said, holding up the keys to my new room. The looks the other boys gave me were familiar-curious, appraising, and a touch predatory. Draco nodded, understanding.

Lowering my hand, I pushed past the Riddle brothers, who watched me with inscrutable expressions. I turned slightly, casting a smirk their way. "Bye, boys," I said, before turning back around. Draco fell into step beside me, our hands entwined as he led me to the girls' dormitory. Before he left, he pecked my cheek. The moment he was gone, I felt the weight of the glares from the other girls.

They looked at me as if I were a thief, their expressions a mix of disgust and disdain. I could almost smell the jealousy radiating off them. "Ignore them," came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Darcy Malfoy, who had appeared out of nowhere. "Whose room are you sharing?"

I showed her the key, and her eyes lit up. "Ooo, lucky me," she cheered, leading me to our room. It was significantly larger than my room at home, with high ceilings and grand, arched windows. My bed was opposite hers, already claimed with her array of girly decorations.

Darcy plopped down on her bed and looked at me seriously. "I just gotta know," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye, "do you sleepwalk or talk in your sleep?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, although I am aware of Draco sleep-talking, yes."

She giggled, nodding. "Good to know." We settled into a comfortable rhythm, her lightheartedness a welcome relief after the tense encounters earlier.

Walking in sync with Darcy by my side felt strangely comforting, like having a guide through the labyrinth of Slytherin intricacies. She filled me in on details that Draco had conveniently left out, making me feel like a keeper of secrets-a role I was learning to play with practiced ease. As we approached the Slytherin common room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and intrigue. This was the lions' den, where reputations were forged and alliances tested.

"Around this time, the other Slytherins have gone to bed, so it's just us where we can relax," Darcy whispered as we entered the dimly lit room. Several students lingered around, some chatting quietly while others reclined in overstuffed chairs or on the floor by the fire.

"There's Blaise Zabini," Darcy nodded towards a tall, dark-haired boy engrossed in what appeared to be a pile of scrolls and books. "He's always busy with tasks."

I nodded in acknowledgment, taking in the scene around me. The atmosphere was one of subdued camaraderie, with boys and girls claiming their spots with possessive touches and lingering gazes.

I made my way over to where Draco was seated behind a couch, my arm casually leaning on his shoulder. A girl who had been occupying his lap moved off with a toss of her hair, and I managed to maintain my composure. "Heard very little about you, Blackwood," a voice piped up from the middle couch to my right.

"Mhmm, there's a reason for that," I thought to myself, meeting the gaze of Pansy Parkinson seated beside a boy who could only be Leo or Roman. I smirked, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

"Yet you follow Malfoy like some lost puppy," another voice chimed in from the other side of Pansy.

"Far from lost," Draco murmured, standing up suddenly. "I'll get you a drink. Sit," he said to me, his voice low and authoritative.

I hesitated for a moment before deciding to take his invitation, feeling a surge of defiance. "Everyone gets one question to know about me," I declared, walking confidently around the couch and taking Draco's vacated seat.

The Slytherin common room buzzed with subdued conversations as I settled into Draco's vacated seat. Pansy Parkinson's sharp gaze lingered on me, her curiosity palpable. I met her stare with a cool confidence, determined not to let her or anyone else rattle me. This was Slytherin, after all-the house of cunning and ambition-and I was here to prove myself.

Darcy Malfoy, ever the social butterfly, introduced me to the others lounging nearby. Blaise Zabini nodded politely from his spot, a hint of intrigue in his dark eyes. The rest of the group eyed me with a mix of scrutiny and mild interest, sizing up the newest addition to their ranks.

As Draco returned with a drink for me, I accepted it graciously, noticing how his presence seemed to command respect among his peers. He settled beside me, his expression unreadable as he observed the dynamics in the room.

"Alright, Blackwood," Pansy spoke up again, her tone a blend of curiosity and challenge. "What exactly brings you to Hogwarts?"

I took a sip of my drink, buying myself a moment to compose a response. "Like many here, I come from a long line of wizards," I began carefully, choosing my words with precision. "My family has ties to this world that go back generations. Hogwarts felt like the natural next step for me."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting more. "And Draco," she continued, her voice taking on a teasing edge, "what's your connection to him?"

I glanced at Draco, a small smile playing on my lips. "Draco and I have known each other for some time," I replied vaguely, leaving the details deliberately ambiguous.

The group fell silent, the weight of their curiosity almost palpable. I knew their questions wouldn't end here, but I was prepared to handle whatever they threw at me. In Slytherin, information was currency, and I intended to play my cards wisely.

Draco leaned closer to me, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're doing great," he murmured, his gaze softening slightly.