Slytherin secrets.

Blaise Zabini

FOUL LANGUAGE

NOT REALTED TO THE BOOKS OR MOVIES.

Slytherin wasn't just a house; it was a world of unspoken rules, of alliances and rivalries that ran deeper than mere schoolyard drama. Every conversation felt like a chess game, and every smile was edged with sharp intent. In Slytherin, loyalty was everything—and betrayal was unforgivable. I realized this quickly. You either played the game or got eaten alive by it.

My days were spent navigating this treacherous landscape, and no one made it harder than Draco Malfoy. He still seemed to take pleasure in making my life miserable, but there were moments—fleeting as they were—when I felt a strange pull between us. It wasn't just the animosity that simmered between us; there was something deeper, something neither of us wanted to acknowledge.

But whatever that tension was, it wasn't going to protect me from the reality of Slytherin's cutthroat nature.

It started innocently enough. One evening in the common room, Blaise Zabini approached me, his usually aloof expression replaced with something almost conspiratorial.

"Up for a game of chess?" he asked, his voice low.

I blinked, surprised. Blaise had always kept his distance, more an observer than a participant in the social politics of Slytherin. He was smart, calculating, and he didn't waste his time with things—or people—that didn't interest him.

"I guess," I said cautiously, glancing around. Draco was sitting on one of the dark leather couches by the fireplace, engrossed in a conversation with Pansy and Crabbe. He hadn't even noticed Blaise approach me.

Blaise smirked, sensing my hesitation. "Relax. I don't bite."

I sat down across from him, eyeing the chessboard as he began setting up the pieces. We played in silence for a few minutes, the crackle of the fire and the occasional murmur from other students filling the space between us.

"So," Blaise said after a few moves, his tone casual. "How's life as a transfer?"

I shrugged, moving my knight. "It's... fine."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my answer. "Come on. You don't actually expect me to believe that, do you? You've been here for weeks, and it's obvious you're... different."

"Different?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Blaise leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tapping on the armrest. "It means you're not like the rest of us. You don't follow the same rules, you don't care about the same things. But you're still here. And that makes people... curious."

I frowned, unsure of where this was going. "Curious how?"

He smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Curious enough to wonder why Malfoy seems so interested in you."

My heart skipped a beat, though I kept my face neutral. "Malfoys not interested in me," I said quickly said. "He hates me."

"Does he?" Blaise tilted his head, studying me. "He certainly spends a lot of time antagonizing you. More than he does with anyone else."

"That's because he's a bully," I said, a sharp edge to my voice.

Blaise chuckled softly. "Maybe. Or maybe he's testing you."

"Testing me?" I repeated, not sure if I wanted to laugh or roll my eyes. "For what?"

"To see if you'll break," Blaise said simply, moving his bishop. "Malfoy's the kind of person who pushes people to their limits. If you snap, he wins. If you don't... well, then you're worth keeping an eye on."

I sat back, considering his words. Was that really what this was all about? Was Draco trying to break me, to see if I could survive the pressure of Slytherin? It made sense in a twisted way. Slytherin valued strength, cunning, and ambition—weakness had no place here. If I couldn't stand up to Draco, then I was nothing.

But there was something else in Blaise's tone, something that set my nerves on edge. He wasn't just offering me insight into Draco's mind—he was warning me.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," Blaise said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You've already attracted more attention than you realize. And in Slytherin, attention can be deadly." I've only been here for two weeks. I was curious on how I had already caught the attention of others?

I stared at him, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach. "What are you talking about?"

Blaise glanced around the room, as if checking to see if anyone was listening. Then he leaned in closer, his expression serious. "There are people here—people with connections—who don't like outsiders. And they definitely don't like people who threaten their power."

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. "Are you talking about Draco?"

Blaise smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Draco's just the face of it. But there's more going on than you know. Be careful who you trust."

His words echoed in my mind long after our game ended. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched that every move I made was being scrutinized.