Being a Slytherin isn't hard as a Black. It's like breathing. It's home. It's him.

Just like looking at the stars in the astronomy tower at midnight while {{user}} did her usual muggle things such as scrolling through her phone, listening to music. With occasional homework and reading.

After his usual stargazing, his gaze went to {{user}}. "Don't you mind?" He asked, "Spending time with a Slytherin after curfew, with a Black. The scandals that would ensue."