Slytherin boys

It was 8:13 AM on a rainy Tuesday morning at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall was packed. The clinking of cutlery, people laughing, ordinary owls delivering ordinary letters, the enchanted ceiling revealing heavy clouds outside.

You were at the Gryffindor table. Or the Ravenclaw table. You choose. But you were staying away from Slytherin on purpose, as always.

You were wearing a wrinkled uniform, your socks were slipping down, your hair was tied up haphazardly because you missed your alarm, and you were trying to copy your friend's Herbology homework while eating toast with jam.

"You're going to get a zero again," her friend said.

"Fuck Herbology," you muttered, your mouth full.

That's when the sound of wings cut through the Hall.

It wasn't one owl. It was fourteen.

Seven enormous black warplanes, flying in a V formation. And seven older brown planes, bearing ancient seals.

They flew in circles above the tables for about 5 seconds, making everyone stop eating.

Professor McGonagall rose from the teachers' table.

And then they dove in.

Seven black doves landed on the Slytherin table. One in front of each of the seven: Tom, Mattheo, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, and Regulus.

Seven brown ones landed in front of you. All for you.

The room fell into absolute silence. Like, the silence from a horror movie.

You looked at seven cards in front of you, all bearing the same seal: SEVEN INTERTWINED SERPENTS. A seal your mother had kept on a box you were never allowed to open as a child.

His hand began to tremble.

Across the Great Hall, in Slytherin, Tom Riddle opened his first. He's always the first. He read the first line and his jaw clenched so tightly you could see it from a distance.

Mattheo read over his shoulder and shouted, "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? DAMN IT, TOM, WHAT DOES IT WRITTEN HERE?"

Draco opened his eyes and turned white. Literally white, his already pale skin turned gray. "I'm going to... I'm going to get married?"

Theo read it, stood up, and threw the letter on the table with such force that his plate broke. "NO. NO. MY FATHER SAID I COULD CHOOSE!"

Blaise opened it and reread it three times. "No, no, no, wait, this must be a mistake... is it [your name]? [Your name] [your last name]?"

Lorenzo nervously undid his bun on the spot, running his hand through his hair. "Mamma... mamma mia, my father didn't tell me anything about this!"

Regulus was the only one who didn't scream. He just closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered, "Of course. Of course he would do that without telling me." And he crumpled the letter in his hand.

You hadn't opened yours yet.

Your friend nudged you: "Open it! Open it now!"

You opened it. With your fingers covered in jelly.

The letter was handwritten, in dark green ink that glowed.

To Ms. [Your Name] [Your Last Name], heiress of the Forgotten Bloodline and last guardian of the Ancient Blood.
According to the Blood Pact signed in 1998 between the seven oldest families in the wizarding world - Riddle, Malfoy, Nott, Zabini, Berkshire, Black and [Your Last Name] - we inform you that, upon turning 17 in your sixth year of school, the marriage contract will be activated.
You are officially betrothed to the seven heirs of the aforementioned families:
Tom Marvolo Riddle - Heir Riddle
Mattheo Riddle - Heir Riddle
Draco Lucius Malfoy - Heir Malfoy
Theodore Nott - Nott Heir
Blaise Zabini - Heir Zabini
Lorenzo Berkshire - Berkshire Heir
Regulus Arcturus Black - Heir Black
The engagement will be publicly announced at this year's Winter Ball on December 20th. The marriage will be sealed at the end of the seventh year, in a traditional ceremony at Black Manor.
Please note that refusing the contract will result in the immediate loss of your family's protection, titles, and fortune, as well as the breaking of the barrier that protects your lineage of hunters.
There is no possibility of annulment without the consent of all seven families.
We wish the future Mrs. Riddle-Malfoy-Nott-Zabini-Berkshire-Black all the best.
Sincerely,
Council of Noble and Ancient Families.

The scroll fell from his hand.

You stood up. Without thinking.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" you yelled. Your voice echoed in the Hall. Your magic exploded uncontrollably, and the seven cards flew towards the ceiling and burst into green flames.

Everyone screamed.

From the Slytherin table, seven chairs were dragged out at the same time.

The seven of them were standing too. All looking at you. All with the letter in their hand.

Tom was the first to cross the Hall. Walking quickly, furious, the letter burning in his hand also because he couldn't control the magic. The other six came after him, almost running.

They stopped in front of his desk. They formed a semicircle around him. Sweating. Panting. Pissed off.

You looked at them and shouted, not caring that the whole school was listening:

"DID YOU KNOW THIS?"

"NO!" The seven shouted together. So loud, so desperate, that even Dumbledore's portrait woke up.

"WE JUST FOUND OUT, JUST LIKE YOU!" Draco showed her his letter, which was crumpled and had a burnt edge. His hand trembled with anger. "MY FATHER SWORE TO ME! HE SWORE TO ME THAT I WOULDN'T HAVE AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE!"

"My mother told me the pact was purely commercial! That it was about land!" Blaise was blushing, he who never blushed.

"Mine said it was a lie! That they had cancelled it!" Theo kicked the chair off his desk.

"Mine didn't even tell me! I found out through a letter!" Lorenzo was almost laughing nervously, but it was a laugh of panic. "I didn't even know I was engaged!"

Mattheo didn't even speak. He just pulled up a chair, sat down beside her as if it were his own, took her trembling hand and held it. Firmly. "Breathe. Breathe, troublemaker. We're in shock too."

You pulled your hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

"Sorry." He took it off, but remained seated.

Regulus knelt to pick up the letters you burned, which were now ashes on the floor. "They sold us. All of us. Like cattle."

Tom hadn't screamed yet. He was just standing there, with his letter on fire in his hand, and he didn't even care that it was burning his skin.

He put out the fire by closing his hand and looked at you. Eye to eye.

"Do you want this?" he asked. His voice was low, but everyone heard because the Hall was deathly silent.

"Of course not! Do you think I want to marry seven? SEVEN Slytherin boys who hate me?"

"Who hates you?" Mattheo was genuinely offended. "Who hates you here? Name them and I'll break their face!"

"You hate me! You call me an annoying shorty!"

"It's because you're short and annoying, and we like that!" Blaise exploded, without a filter.

Silence.

Blaise put his hand to his mouth: "Shit."

Tom closed his eyes for a second, as if asking Merlin for patience.

Theo took the opportunity and spoke quickly, his face red from ear to ear: "Look, I'm pissed. Really pissed. At my dad. But... if it had to be someone... I... I'm glad it's you. Because it could have been any Slytherin girl who just wants money and... and you're not like that."

Draco looked at him, horrified: "THEO, YOU CAN'T SAY THAT NOW!"

"Why not? It's true!" Theo shouted back.

Lorenzo raised his hand, as if asking to speak in class: "Me too. I... I'm angry, but... I already liked you before, piccola. So... for me it's less bad."

"Me too!" Mattheo raised his hand as well. "If I have to marry someone in an arranged marriage, it's a good thing it's with you and not Pansy!"

"SHUT UP, MATTHEO!" Draco wanted to bury him alive.

Regulus sighed, exhausted. He looked at you, and it was the first time in six years that he had spoken more than two sentences to you.

"I already knew my father was going to do this. I just didn't know it was you. And... if it's you... I'm not going to complain. I've never complained about you."

Blaise: "I was going to run away. If it were someone else, I swear I'd run away to Italy and never come back. But since it's you... I'll stay. Even if I'm angry."

Draco was the last one. He was holding the letter so tightly that his fingers were white. He looked at you, at your messy hair, your crooked tie, your face that looked like you wanted to kill everyone.

"I hate you," he said.

You widened your eyes: "WHAT?"

"I hate you because you make me get a lower grade than you in Potions on purpose just to annoy me. I hate you because you laughed at me when I fell in the lake. I hate you because you're the only person in this school who isn't afraid of me." He took a deep breath. "And I'm angry at my father for setting this up without asking me. But I'm not angry about marrying you. I'm angry that I'm only finding out now."

The entire room held its breath.

Tom stepped forward. He picked up the seven cards that were on the floor, his burnt cards and theirs, and threw them all onto the teachers' table.

"This is selling minors," he said loudly, so McGonagall could hear. "Our parents are going to hear about it today."

And then he looked at you and spoke softly, just loud enough for you and the other six to hear:

"You don't have to wear a dress to the Ball if you don't want to. You don't have to dance with us. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But we'll be there. All seven of us. Because now that we know it's you... we won't let anyone else get close."

You looked at seven gorgeous, rich, furious boys, with burnt arranged marriage letters, in the middle of the Great Hall, defending you from a contract they also hated, but deep down, they were relieved it was you.

"I'm going to kill my parents," you repeated, but your voice wasn't so angry anymore.

"And we're going to help." Mattheo smiled.

And for the first time since the owls came in, you laughed. A short, nervous laugh, but you laughed.

And the seven smiled back, relieved, as if their laughter had just saved their day.

..