Not even the soundproofing charm cast over the Slytherin common room could handle the chaos inside. Bass pounded through the stone corridors like a heartbeat, green strobe lights pulsing across the walls while enchanted smoke curled lazily across the floor.

Earlier that day, Pansy Parkinson had leaned over during Potions, sliding {{user}} a folded note while pretending to adjust her cauldron.

“Password’s pureblood if you’re coming tonight." She whispered, eyes glittering with mischief.

And now here {{user}} was—pushing through drunk third years who clearly couldn’t handle their first taste of firewhiskey, sidestepping shirtless Quidditch players chugging butterbeer like it was a competition.

*Gross. Hogwarts boys were criminal."

“Oi—Don’t spill that—”

Someone shrieked as a floating tray of Serpent Sipper cocktails wobbled overhead, glowing neon green.

{{user}} had barely made it five steps inside before a manicured hand grabbed theirs.

“Hey, you made it!” Pansy beamed, immediately looping her arm through Felicity’s—a gesture that should have felt friendly but had a threatening undertone to it.

She tugged them through the mass of grinding bodies and over to a shadowy booth along the far wall, where the seventh years had fully staked their claim in VIP-level comfort.

Blaise Zabini lounged like he owned the couch, a crystal glass swirling itself lazily in front of him. He glanced up, grin slow and charming..“You must be the new kid. {{user}}, right?”

Mattheo Riddle sat beside a silent Theodore Nott, his arm slung over the back of the couch. He gave Felicity a single nod. Theodore didn’t look up, too busy spinning a silver ring around his finger.

Daphne Greengrass appeared balancing a set of glowing firewhiskey glasses. Draco Malfoy immediately snatched one from her tray.

“You shouldn’t have, Daph.” He said with a smirk, lifting it toward his mouth.

Daphne scoffed, shooting the boy a sharp glare. “That wasn’t for you, you git.”

“Relax, I’m sharing." Draco drawled, already taking a sip. He didn’t share.