Slytherin Boys x Y/N Short Stories

You're Aphrodite's Daughter - Lorenzo Berkshire

The Three Broomsticks buzzed with chatter, its warm glow spilling out into the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade. Lorenzo Berkshire sat at a corner table, his fingers curled tightly around the handle of his butterbeer mug. His sharp eyes were fixed on Y/N, who stood across the room, laughing at something Blaise Zabini had just said.

Her laugh was bright, melodic—the kind that made people turn their heads. Lorenzo hated it. Not her laugh, but the fact that someone else was the cause of it.

She leaned forward slightly, her hand resting on Blaise's arm as she said something that made him grin like a Cheshire cat.

Lorenzo's grip on his mug tightened, and he looked away, his jaw clenched. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this, chatting, laughing, drawing people in like moths to a flame. It was effortless for her—too effortless.

"Something wrong, Enzo?" Y/N's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He looked up to see her standing by their table, her head tilted slightly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. She was radiant as always, her Slytherin-green scarf draped casually around her neck, her hair catching the firelight in a way that made her look almost otherworldly.

"Nothing," Lorenzo said, his voice clipped as he took a long sip of his drink.

Y/N frowned, sliding into the seat across from him. "You sure? You've been glaring at that poor mug like it insulted your family."

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, his irritation bubbling to the surface. "I'm fine. Why don't you go back to Blaise? He seemed to be enjoying your company."

Her smile faltered, confusion flashing across her face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "If you've got something to say, Enzo, just say it."

He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Fine. Why do you always have to be so..." He waved his hand vaguely, searching for the right word. "Charming? Flirty?"

She blinked, taken aback. "Flirty?"

"Yes, flirty," he snapped, his voice low but heated. "You do it without even thinking, don't you? Laughing, touching people's arms, making them feel like they're the only person in the room."

Her cheeks flushed, a mix of anger and embarrassment. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?" he challenged, his grey eyes boring into hers. "Because it certainly doesn't feel like you're trying to be subtle."

Y/N clenched her fists under the table, her heart pounding. She hadn't wanted it to come to this. Not here, not like this. But Lorenzo wasn't going to let it go, and she couldn't keep dodging his accusations.

"Alright," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. "You want the truth? Fine."

Lorenzo leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

"I'm not just 'flirty,' Enzo," she said, her voice dropping to a quieter, more serious tone. "It's part of who I am. It's in my blood."

He frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Y/N took a deep breath, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "I'm not... like everyone else. My mother is Aphrodite."

Lorenzo blinked, his confusion deepening. "Aphrodite. As in... the goddess of love?"

"Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The goddess of love, beauty, and desire. She's my mother. And because of that, I can't help the way people feel around me. It's not something I control—it's just... me."

Lorenzo stared at her, his mind racing. He thought back to all the times he'd seen her light up a room, the way people seemed drawn to her like gravity itself bent around her. It all made sense now.

"So, what you're saying is..." he began slowly, his voice softer now, "it's not intentional?"

She shook her head. "No. It's not. I don't mean to make people feel... whatever they feel. It's just part of who I am. And I've tried to hide it, but it doesn't always work."

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his dark hair. "And you didn't think to tell me this before?"

Y/N winced. "I didn't know how. How do you explain something like that without sounding completely insane?"

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the table. "So, all those times I thought you were... flirting with other people, it wasn't real?"

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached across the table, hesitating for a moment before resting her hand on his.

"The only person I care about is you, Enzo," she said softly. "I can't change what I am, but I need you to know that what I feel for you is real. You're not just another person caught in the... the effect. You're different."

Lorenzo looked up, his grey eyes meeting hers. For a long moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he let out a soft sigh, his hand turning to entwine with hers. "You're infuriating, you know that?"

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I've been told."

"But," he continued, his voice gentler now, "I suppose I can't hold it against you. After all, it's not every day you find out your girlfriend's a literal goddess."

"Demigoddess," she corrected, her smile growing.

"Close enough," he said, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But don't think this means I'm going to stop being jealous. If Blaise so much as looks at you the wrong way, I'll hex him into next week."

Y/N laughed, relief washing over her like a wave. "Fair enough. But you have nothing to worry about, Enzo. You're the only one who matters to me."

"Good," he said, leaning closer. "Because I don't plan on sharing."

As the tension between them dissolved, Y/N felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She had feared his reaction, but Lorenzo's jealousy had only reaffirmed what she already knew: he cared deeply for her. And now, with her secret out in the open, she could finally let him in.

Lorenzo smirked, his tone playful as he added, "So, does this mean I get to meet your mother someday? Or is that strictly off-limits?"

Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes. "Let's just focus on surviving Blaise first, alright?"

And for the first time in a long while, she felt truly understood—and undeniably loved.