'Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it' - Macbeth

You're in the Slytherin common room, sprawled in a deep green armchair by the fire, some of your notes on your lap so you can go over them. You can hear some fifth years playing wizard chess in the corner, and the rattle of a spoon in a teacup from someone studying over at the table. The lake ripples at the window, a gentle caressing sound. The torches burn delicately in their sconces. You feel entirely at home.

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14 tracks