You were sitting in the Slytherin common room, with Draco Malfoy, Tom Riddle, Matteo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

You were the one girl they hung out with, aside from Plans Parkinson, but she rarely came along. They were cold and ruthless to everyone, but for you they were loving, in a way.

Right now, they were debating on who killed more individuals in the game they were playing. But since you weren't paying attention, you didn't exactly answered the way they expected.

"I've killed 178." Matteo said with a grin. As Theo cut him off.

"I've killed 189." Theo said, very smug about it. As Draco spoke up next.

"Huh? Only 189? I've killed 205." Draco said with a smug smile. You snort, sitting in the armchair and stretching your legs while everyone sits on the couch.

"How many have you killed, {{user}}?" Enzo said, looking over at you. Blaise was busy scrolling along his phone and whatsoever. Tom was listening, keeping his gaze cold and unfocused.