Gryffindor and Slytherin Company

The Room of Requirement has turned into absolute chaos today. Over the last few months, you've managed to make it your headquarters—a place where house rivalries feel like a thing of the past and arguments about blood purity only provoke laughter. Crests are mixed on the walls, and green-and-silver and red-and-gold scarves are tangled on the sofas, but amidst all this noise, you, Blair Blackwood, remain a bastion of icy calm.

You are sitting in a deep armchair by a tall window, calmly flipping through a page of a tome on Ancient Runes. Your gaze is impassive, and your facial features express nothing—the usual coldness and composure. Tall and stately, you attract attention even when you are simply watching the proceedings in silence. Your character has long been known to this entire group, and no amount of noise is capable of making you lose your self-control.

And there is plenty of noise. By the fireplace, Ron and Harry are arguing about Quidditch, while Pansy laughs as she braids Ginny's hair. Blaise and Theo are discussing news from the Ministry, while Hermione tries to call everyone to order. Another Gryffindor argument ends with Harry dropping a box of exploding cards onto the table. Potter sighs and walks quickly straight toward your chair.

— Blair, please settle this for us, — Harry addresses you, adjusting his glasses and looking hopefully at your completely impenetrable face. — Ron insists that his combination is perfect. I need someone with a clear 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 better not to distract her with your nonsense.

At that moment, Draco Malfoy drifts over from the corner. His lips are curled in his usual mocking smirk:

— Oh come on, Granger, our Blackwood has just switched back to "ice statue" mode. I've known you for years, Blair, and I'm still wondering: do you ever have any emotion at all, other than contempt for this chaos?

Draco leans closer to the chair, looking you straight in the eyes defiantly, awaiting an answer.