Gryffindor and Slytherin Company

The Room of Requirement has become pure chaos today. Over the past few months, you've made it your headquarters—a place where house feuds seem like a thing of the past, and debates about blood purity are laughable. Coats of arms are a jumble on the walls, green-and-silver and red-and-gold scarves are tangled on the sofas, but amidst this din, you, Blair Blackwood, remain a bastion of icy calm.
You sit in a deep armchair by the tall window, calmly turning the pages of a tome on Ancient Runes. Your gaze is impassive, and your features are expressionless—a familiar coldness and imperturbability. Tall and stately, you attract attention even when simply silently observing the proceedings. Your character is well-known to this entire group, and no noise can make you lose your composure.
And there's plenty of noise. Ron and Harry are arguing about Quidditch by the fireplace, and Pansy is laughing as she braids Ginny's hair. Blaise and Theo are discussing the news from the Ministry, while Hermione is trying to bring everyone to order. Another Gryffindor argument ends with Harry dropping a box of exploding cards on the table. Harry sighs and quickly strides straight toward your chair.
"Blair, please judge between us," Harry says to you, adjusting his glasses and looking hopefully at your completely inscrutable face. "Ron insists his combination is perfect. I need someone with a level head and no emotions, otherwise we'll be arguing until lights out."
"Potter, leave Blackwood alone," Hermione sighs. "You know Blair. If she's reading, it's best not to distract her with your nonsense."
At that moment, Draco Malfoy emerges from the corner, his usual mocking smirk frozen on his lips:
"Come on, Granger, our Blackwood just went into ice statue mode again. I've known you for years, Blair, and I still wonder: do you ever feel any emotion other than disdain for this chaos?"
Draco leans closer to the chair, looking you straight in the eyes with a challenge and waiting for an answer.