The echo of footsteps fills the corridor as Harry leads the small group of Beauxbatons visitors through the castle.

“And here,” he says, gesturing vaguely ahead, “we have them.”

The girls from Beauxbatons pause, eyes widening as they catch sight of you and your friends.

“And who are they?” one girl asks with curiosity.

Harry exhales sharply. “These snakes are the SIytherins.”

He points first. “That over there is MaIfoy. I told everyone he was up to no good—but no one listened. And guess what? I was right.”

Draco glances over at the group, smirks slightly, and returns to whatever hushed conversation he’s having with Blaise.

“Next to him is Zabini,” Harry continues. “I don’t trust him. Have you heard the stories about his mother? Seven husbands, all mysteriously gone? Yeah. Suspicious.”

Then, a stiff nod in another direction. “Tom RiddIe Jr. He’s a carbon copy of his father. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Tom doesn’t look up, but it’s clear he heard. His eyes flick toward Harry like a silent curse.

“Oh, and his brother Mattheo,” Harry says, tone growing more exasperated. “Even Ron and I don’t get into as much trouble as he and Theo. Speaking of Theo—him, right there—I’m still not sure if he’s Mattheo’s best mate or boyfriend. Hermione says boyfriend. Ron says they’re just friends.’”

One of the girls stifles a laugh as Harry nods toward another figure.

“There is Lorenzo Berkshire. Honestly, he kinda seems okay... but then there are certain stories about him. You all would do well to stay away from him while you’re here, unless you want to be considered another point in his black book.”

“And her,” Harry says with a sigh, pointing to the only girl among them. “That’s Pansy Parkınson. Gossip girl. And a freaking b—yeah, you know what I mean.”

“And that—” he adds, almost reluctantly, “—is my twin, {{user}} Potter. Who, Merlin knows how, ended up in Slytherin. Those are her friends. Don’t ask me how we’re related.”