The Slytherin Princess

FOUR

TW: self harm visuals

"And then, he put his hand on my shoulder, and of course I was thinking oh, how sweet, he feels protective of me, and then, and this is where it gets good, he MOVES IT DOWN and he HONKS MY BOOB!" finished Daphne, breathless.

She had been ranting about her and Blaise's complicated relationship for the past hour, and by the time Daphne had actually reached her conclusion, they had reached the Slytherin Common Room, made two trips to the girls dorm (one for trunks, one for their second trunks containing books and Daphne's prized collection of Jimmy Choos), unpacked entirely, got into their pyjamas, and discovered that they were dorm mates along with another girl named Ambrosia. It was extremely entertaining to say the least, and their on and off relationship seemed to be the most dramatic of all the Hogwarts couples.
"NO!" quipped Anthraxia, faking shock.
"YES!! And he had the audacity to tell me he wasn't looking for a relationship!! What. A. Tosser." Daphne sighed. "It's alright, though. He told me I was beautiful today. I think we might get back together." She squealed and hugged her pillow to her chest.

Anthraxia smiled. She recalled her first kiss when she was thirteen. It had been very rushed, and much to her dissatisfaction, not like the movies at all.
She couldn't help but feel a tinge of longing for her own Blaise. Then again, Harry's face lit up from the moonlight in the carriage couldn't help but resurface. Anthraxia wasn't one to get attached, but she couldn't help but feel a connection to the boy.
They were both orphans, and were both already inexplicably linked. She shook his smirking face from her mind and focused on Daphne.
Daphne was lying on her bed staring up happily at the silk curtains of her four poster bed, sighing. It was so childish, but then again, the beauty of love is one that few cannot appreciate.

A knock on the door roused them from their boy talk.
"Is this Anthraxia and Daphne's dorm room? I'm Ambrosia Vineko, I believe I'm your new roommate?" called a sing song voice.
The door swung open to reveal Ambrosia. She had waist length black hair, and she was East Asian. Her big ice blue eyes were rimmed with coal black eyeliner, and she looked like a model, standing at about 5'9. Anthraxia felt a warm thrill. Sure, she thought Daphne was sweet, but she could tell she was going to get along with Ambrosia. Her effortlessly cool aura was complimented by the fact that she could have easily stepped onto a catwalk then and there; long legs, feline eyes, and a slim build. Ambrosia walked over to the bed next to Thraxia's, chucking her silver trunks on the green and black rug. Flinging herself down on the bed, she looked up at the two other girls and smiled.
"Hi."
Anthraxia smoothed her face into her usual aristocratic nonchalant look. She stood up and extended a ring clad hand.
"Anthraxia Argent. Call me Thraxia, this is Daph. She's been ranting about her boy struggles for the last hour, you came just in time." Ambrosia snorted, and flung out a hand. Anthraxia shook it firmly, and they grinned at each other.
"God, I could never like men. Too much work. I prefer the easier gender; but each to their own I suppose. Merlin, my feet hurt. I got new Dr Martens the other day, and I haven't broken them in yet, they hurt like shit." She grimaced and leaned down, unlacing her black platform boots. Anthraxia arched an eyebrow. Ambrosia seemed to register no recognition of her name, neither did she raise an eyebrow at the bone white wand in her hand. Anthraxia hoped that it was simply because she didn't care; in her eyes, that made her much cooler than she already was.
"You're an Argent, are you not? You'll know my father, Alexander Vineko. Or at least your grandfather will, I doubt you get involved with that sort of business." Ambrosia gave her an approving look. Anthraxia recognised the name. Alexander Vineko was Lord Voldemort's most trusted right hand man. No doubt his daughter would carry on his influence.
"Ah, yes! I assume you will carry on the family business?" She didn't want to sound rude; a good amount of people got offended when asked if they too wanted to become a Death Eater, but Ambrosia just smiled.
"Of course! I've wanted to since I was a child. Maybe not the blood purity side of things, that's a waste of time, but I want to be the youngest death eater of all time. Voldemort himself says he simply can't wait to turn me." She sounded proud, and she should have been. It was a great honour to be a death eater.
Daphne, however, didn't agree. At the mention of Voldemort's full name, she paled, and muttered something about going to see Blaise. She dashed off without a word, and Ambrosia turned to Thraxia, raising an eyebrow, amused.
"Scared her off, did I? I do that to most. It seems you do too. Guess we just have to stick together. Call me Rosia." Thraxia grinned. Her and Rosia were going to get along just fine.