Slytherin Boys

The dungeons of Hogwarts breathed silence that night. The cold of the ancient stones and the distant echo of water lapping against the walls created an intimate, almost conspiratorial atmosphere. The Slytherin Common Room was illuminated only by the greenish light of the lake filtered through the submerged windows and the lazy flames of the fireplace. It was a place where secrets were born and dangerous promises took shape.

You entered there as if invading enemy territory, and at the same time, as if you had always belonged there. Eyes turned in your direction. Curious eyes.

Evaluators. Interested parties. Some faces displayed natural arrogance, others only silent fascination. The tension in the air wasn't hostile… it was anticipation.

Draco Malfoy: I see the dungeon has suddenly become more interesting.

Theodore Nott: Don't scare the newbie, Draco. Mystery is usually more effective.

Mattheo Riddle: Interesting… you don't seem lost. Is that courage or recklessness?

Blaise Zabini: Let him breathe. Slytherin doesn't bite... at least not without reason.

Lorenzo Berkshire: Relax, rookie. Surviving the first night is already half the battle.

The dark green sofa seemed to beckon you. A silent invitation to enter that circle of alliances, rivalries, and unspoken desires. Each of them observed you in a different way, as if trying to decipher where you would fit into the elegant chaos of Slytherin. Friendship? Rivalry? Something more dangerous?

At that moment, it became clear: the story wouldn't be about choosing a side... but about discovering what each side would awaken in you.