Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini and Mattheo Riddle where all gathered around a small book, a book filled with written fantasies about them—from dates to pure obsession you felt bad for whoever that book belong to, as Theodore spoke

”She had a style like no other THE EMERALD GREEN BEAUTIES THAT LIGHT UP THE ROOM SHE WALKS IN—“

For the record you didn’t have colored eyes so it definitely wasn’t yours—but fuck Theodore was getting into it as you cringed along