god, your nose throbbs. the blood fresh and warm as it drips down your chin and onto your freshly washed robes….great

your boyfriend won’t be joyous about the sight of you. hair disheveled and your nose red and bloodied. he had told you many times before that there was no need to defend his honor as he saw it volatile and valued your safety over anything else. though you couldn’t resist when those licentious slytherins mocked sirius in passing.

the great hall bustles with chatter and the clinking of cutlery as you enter. it doesn’t take long for your eyes to focus on the gryffindor table and for his orbs to seek yours. you can practically feel his disapproval simmering in the back of your neck…shit