The Slytherin common room was alive with a buzz of excitement, the low, flickering light from emerald-green lanterns casting shadows against the cold stone walls. It was one of the rare nights when the Slytherins let loose, free of their usual reserved airs. The tables were laden with food and bottles of Firewhiskey, laughter and murmured conversations weaving through the crowd.
Mattheo Riddle was sprawled on a leather armchair near the fireplace, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched Blaise Zabini attempt to charm a pair of older Slytherin girls. Across the room, Pansy Parkinson was holding court with her usual crowd, Draco Malfoy perched beside her looking vaguely bored.
It was a classic Slytherin gathering, exclusive and elite, meant only for the House of cunning and ambition.
And then the door opened.
Heads turned, conversations stilled, and all eyes fell on the figure standing in the doorway. Astra Potter.
She leaned casually against the frame, her lips curved into a teasing smile as her emerald-green eyes scanned the room. Her black robes hung loose over her shoulders, the faintest shimmer of silver trim catching the light. She didn’t belong here, but she wore her defiance like a crown.
“Evening, snakes,” Astra drawled, her voice carrying over the now-silent room. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Astra,” Draco said, his voice laced with irritation as he rose from his chair. “What are you doing here?”
“Crashing your little gathering, obviously,” she replied, stepping further into the room as if she owned the place. The enchantments that should’ve barred her from entering were no match for her cunning Astra always found a way.
“You’re not welcome here,” Pansy snapped, standing up as well, her glare sharp enough to cut glass.
Astra raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, Pansy, don’t be such a buzzkill. You throw a party and don’t even invite me? Rude.”
Mattheo chuckled from his spot by the fire, tipping his chair back on two legs. “You’re bold, Potter. I’ll give you that.”
“Bold, charming, devastatingly attractive don’t stop now, Mattheo,” Astra quipped, her grin widening as she sauntered further into the room. She plucked a glass of Firewhiskey from a passing tray and raised it in a mock toast.
Draco crossed his arms, his glare narrowing. “You don’t belong here. Get out.”
“Relax, Malfoy,” Astra said, taking a sip of her drink and making a face. “Wow, this is awful. Who’s in charge of drinks? You’d think Slytherins would have better taste.”
A ripple of laughter broke out among the crowd, and even Blaise smirked, clearly amused by her audacity.
“You’ve got some nerve,” Pansy hissed, stepping closer to Astra. “Do you have a death wish, Potter? You think you can just walk in here and..”
“Walk in here and what? Have a little fun? Mingle with the upper crust?” Astra interrupted, tilting her head with mock innocence. “Honestly, Pansy, you sound jealous. Don’t worry I’m not here to steal your spotlight.”
Pansy’s cheeks flushed red with anger, and Astra turned away before she could respond, her attention shifting to the boys by the fire.
“Mattheo,” Astra purred, her voice dripping with mischief as she sauntered toward him. “You look far too comfortable. Want to show me around? I’ve always wondered what secrets you snakes are hiding.”
Mattheo’s smirk widened, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Potter.”
“Oh, I love danger,” she said, leaning on the arm of his chair, her gaze locked with his. “It’s so… thrilling.”
Draco made a noise of disgust, clearly over the entire situation. “Potter, you’re insufferable.”
“And yet you’re still talking to me,” Astra shot back, throwing him a wink.
The room was split between those who were entertained by her antics and those who were fuming at her intrusion. Astra thrived in the chaos, basking in the tension she created.
“You’re outnumbered, you know,” Blaise pointed out, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “A Gryffindor in a den of Slytherins… bold move, Potter.”
“Gryffindor?” Astra echoed, feigning offense. “Please, Blaise, don’t insult me. I’m more Slytherin than half the people in this room. I just happen to look good in red and gold.”
Mattheo chuckled, clearly enjoying the show. “You’ve got a point. She’s more fun than most of you lot.”
“Traitor,” Draco muttered under his breath, glaring at his friend.
Astra straightened, holding her glass up once more. “Well, since I’m already here, I think I’ll stay a while. Don’t worry, Malfoy, I promise not to steal too much of your thunder. Though, between us, you could use some better party tricks.”
The Slytherin common room was officially a battlefield of laughter, irritation, and barely concealed chaos. Astra Potter had turned the exclusive gathering into a stage, and she was its undeniable star.
She leaned closer to Mattheo, her elbow brushing his arm, the slight contact intentional as she toyed with the rim of her glass. “Tell me, Mattheo,” she purred, her voice low enough for only him to hear, “do all your parties start this dull, or is tonight just a special kind of disappointing?”
His smirk deepened, dark eyes dancing with a mixture of mischief and intrigue. “Oh, you’re anything but disappointing, Potter. I’d say you’ve spiced things up quite nicely.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied with a sly smile. “But if you’re going to try and charm me, at least pretend to work for it.”
Draco, who had been silently seething from his vantage point nearby, finally had enough. “Mattheo, are you seriously entertaining this nonsense?” he snapped, glaring at Astra as if she’d personally insulted his lineage.
Astra tilted her head, feigning innocence. “What’s wrong, Malfoy? Jealous I’m not giving you the same attention?”
Draco’s pale cheeks flushed, and he sputtered. “Jealous? Of you? Don’t flatter yourself, Potter.”
“Oh, come on,” she teased, sidling closer to him and letting her gaze linger just long enough to make him squirm. “I’m only trying to make your little party… memorable. You should be thanking me.”
Draco recoiled as if her proximity burned him, his scowl deepening. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re predictable,” she shot back, her grin widening.
Mattheo chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he watched the exchange. “Careful, Potter. If you wind Draco up any tighter, he might explode.”
“Maybe that’s the goal,” Astra said with a wink, earning another laugh from Mattheo.
Pansy stormed over, her heels clicking against the stone floor, and inserted herself between Astra and Draco. “Don’t you have anything better to do than antagonize Malfoy?” she snapped, her arms crossed defensively.
“Antagonize? I’m just having a bit of fun,” Astra replied, her tone light but her gaze sharp as it flicked over Pansy. “Isn’t that what parties are for?”
“You’re not even supposed to be here,” Pansy hissed, her voice rising in pitch.
“And yet here I am, being the life of the party,” Astra quipped, turning back to Mattheo. “Speaking of which, I think this room could use a bit more energy. Don’t you agree?”
Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”
With a sly grin, Astra pulled her wand from her sleeve and flicked it toward the enchanted gramophone in the corner. The music shifted instantly, the low hum of classical strings replaced by a pulsing beat that filled the room with an infectious energy.
“Potter, what are you doing?” Draco demanded, his voice almost drowned out by the music.
“Saving this party from itself,” she replied without missing a beat.
The orbs of light overhead began to pulse in time with the beat, their green glow shifting to a kaleidoscope of colors that bathed the room in a vibrant, almost ethereal light. The once-snooty gathering was suddenly transformed into a rager, and despite their initial resistance, the Slytherins couldn’t help but be drawn in.
Blaise was the first to embrace the change, raising his glass with a grin. “Now this is more like it!”
Others soon followed suit, and before long, the room was alive with movement. Astra took center stage, leading the charge onto the makeshift dance floor she’d conjured with another flick of her wand.
She grabbed Mattheo’s hand and spun him toward her, their movements effortlessly synchronized as the beat drove them. “You’re not afraid of a little chaos, are you, Riddle?” she asked, her voice teasing.
He smirked, leaning closer so she could hear him over the music. “Chaos? That’s my middle name.”
“Good,” she replied, her eyes gleaming. “Because I’m just getting started.”
Draco watched from the sidelines, his jaw tight as he tried to decide whether to storm out or hex her on the spot. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.
“Loosen up, Malfoy!” Astra called, her voice carrying over the music. “You might actually have fun if you tried.”
“Fun is overrated,” he snapped, but there was a crack in his resolve, his feet shifting as if the music was threatening to pull him in.
Astra turned her attention back to Mattheo, who was grinning like he hadn’t had this much fun in years. “See? Even Malfoy’s starting to feel it,” she said, her tone dripping with mock encouragement.
“I give him ten minutes before he gives in,” Mattheo replied, his smirk widening.
And just like that, Astra had done it she’d turned the carefully curated Slytherin soirée into an all-out celebration of chaos, laughter, and unrestrained energy.
The House of cunning and ambition would never forget the night Astra Potter crashed their party and left it completely turned upside down.
The common room was a pulsating hive of chaos now, far from the exclusive, reserved gathering it had been just hours before. Bottles of Firewhiskey floated mid-air, passed around by invisible hands, courtesy of Astra’s deft spellwork. Tables were pushed to the walls to make more room for dancing, and even the most aloof Slytherins were losing themselves to the infectious energy she’d unleashed.
Astra was at the center of it all, her emerald-green eyes blazing with amusement as she guided the madness like a conductor leading a symphony.
“You’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” Mattheo said, leaning closer to Astra as they stood by the fireplace, watching the chaos unfold.
Astra turned her head slightly, her smirk dangerous and inviting. “It’s a gift,” she replied, her voice dripping with amusement. “They just needed someone to show them how to have a little fun.”
Mattheo chuckled, his dark eyes studying her intently. “You’re full of surprises, Potter.”
She tilted her head, her gaze meeting his, a spark of challenge flickering between them. “You’ve only scratched the surface, Riddle. I’ve got more surprises up my sleeve than you can imagine.”
“Careful,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I might just take that as an invitation.”
Before Astra could respond, Draco stalked over, his irritation practically radiating off him. His platinum-blond hair was slightly disheveled, and his sharp features were pulled into a scowl.
“This is ridiculous,” he spat, glaring at Astra. “You’ve turned this into a circus.”
“You’re welcome,” Astra said breezily, taking another sip of Firewhiskey. “A little chaos never hurt anyone, Malfoy.”
Draco’s glare darkened. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re predictable,” she countered, giving him a mocking smile. “Honestly, Malfoy, you should be thanking me. Your party was dead before I got here.”
Mattheo snorted in amusement, and Blaise, who had sauntered over with a fresh drink in hand, smirked. “She’s not wrong, Draco. You were practically asleep in that chair earlier.”
“Shut it, Blaise,” Draco snapped, his cheeks flushing pink.
Astra stepped closer to Draco, her smile turning almost predatory. “Oh, come on, Malfoy. You’re not seriously going to pout all night, are you? Loosen up. Have a drink. Dance. Do something other than glare at me.”
“I don’t dance,” Draco said through gritted teeth.
“Well, that’s a shame,” Astra said, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Guess I’ll just have to find someone else to show me a good time.”
She turned to Mattheo, her hand brushing his arm as she grinned up at him. “What about you, Riddle? Think you can keep up with me?”
Mattheo’s smirk widened, and he downed the rest of his drink before setting the glass aside. “Oh, I can do more than keep up, Potter.”
Draco’s jaw clenched as Mattheo took Astra’s hand and led her onto the makeshift dance floor. The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, every eye turning to watch as the two of them moved together, the air between them electric.
Astra let herself get lost in the music, her body moving with a confidence that drew everyone’s attention. Mattheo matched her step for step, his movements fluid and effortless, his dark gaze locked on hers.
“You’re good,” Astra said, her voice barely audible over the pounding beat.
“So are you,” Mattheo replied, his smirk never faltering. “I didn’t peg you for a dancer.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” she said, her tone teasing.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to learn,” he said, his voice low and full of promise.
Draco, still standing by the fireplace, looked like he was about to explode. Pansy was at his side, whispering something to him, but he barely seemed to hear her, his attention entirely focused on Astra and Mattheo.
“She’s doing this on purpose,” he muttered under his breath.
“Of course she is,” Blaise said, appearing at Draco’s shoulder with an infuriatingly amused grin. “And you’re playing right into her hands.”
“I’m not..” Draco started, but Blaise cut him off with a laugh.
“You are. Just relax, Draco. Enjoy the chaos for once.”
Draco scowled but said nothing, his gaze flicking back to Astra and Mattheo. The room around him had descended into full-blown revelry, the Slytherins letting go of their usual restraint in favor of pure, unfiltered fun.
Astra, meanwhile, was thriving in the madness she’d created, her laughter ringing out as Mattheo spun her around. For one night, the cold, calculated world of Slytherin was turned on its head, and Astra Potter was the queen of the chaos.
As the night unraveled further into mayhem, Astra reveled in every moment. The once-aloof Slytherins had transformed into a wild crowd, the room filled with laughter, music, and the sound of shattering glass as someone failed a drunken attempt to levitate a bottle. Astra and Mattheo were still commanding the dance floor, their movements fluid and teasing, the tension between them undeniable.
“Tell me, Potter,” Mattheo murmured, his lips close to her ear as he spun her back into his arms, “is this all part of your master plan? Or do you just enjoy driving us mad?”
Astra grinned, her emerald eyes glinting with mischief. “Can’t it be both?”
Mattheo chuckled, the sound low and rich, as his hands lingered just a moment too long on her waist. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she replied, her tone light but her gaze sharp. She was aware of the attention they were drawing, especially from Draco, who looked like he was about five seconds away from hexing someone.
Speaking of Draco, he finally decided he’d had enough. Storming onto the dance floor, he grabbed Mattheo by the arm, forcibly spinning him away from Astra.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Draco snapped, his voice tight with irritation. “Potter’s had her fun. Time for her to leave.”
“Draco,” Mattheo drawled, raising an eyebrow, “you’re being a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“I’m not being dramatic,” Draco bit out, his grey eyes narrowing as he looked at Astra. “She’s not one of us. She doesn’t belong here.”
“Oh, Malfoy,” Astra said with a mock pout, stepping closer to him. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”
“Friends?” Draco sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. You’re nothing but a..”
“Careful, Malfoy,” Astra interrupted, her tone sharp but playful as she took another step forward, closing the distance between them. “You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.”
The room seemed to hold its breath again, the tension crackling like a live wire. Astra tilted her head, her smile challenging as she stared him down. Draco, for all his bravado, faltered slightly under her gaze, his cheeks flushing a faint pink.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered, stepping back.
“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” Astra shot back, grinning as she turned on her heel and sauntered back toward the fireplace.
Mattheo smirked, clapping Draco on the shoulder as he followed Astra. “I think she’s growing on me.”
“She’s insufferable,” Draco snapped, his jaw tight as he glared after them.
Blaise, who had been watching the entire exchange with a glass of Firewhiskey in hand, chuckled. “You’re just mad because she’s better at winding you up than you are at getting under her skin.”
Draco didn’t respond, but the way his scowl deepened was answer enough.
Back by the fireplace, Astra had reclaimed her drink, leaning casually against the mantle as Mattheo joined her.
“You really know how to make an impression,” he said, his tone amused as he leaned on the wall beside her.
“It’s a talent,” Astra replied, taking a sip of her drink. “Though I think your friend Malfoy might hate me forever.”
Mattheo smirked. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just not used to someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” Astra echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Someone who doesn’t care about his name, his reputation, his carefully cultivated world,” Mattheo said, his dark eyes locking with hers. “You challenge him. And he hates being challenged.”
Astra smiled, her gaze flicking to Draco, who was still fuming on the other side of the room. “Good. It keeps things interesting.”
Mattheo laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “You’re dangerous, Potter. But I think I like it.”
“Dangerous?” Astra repeated, her voice laced with mock offense. “I’m harmless.”
“Harmless doesn’t walk into a Slytherin party uninvited and turn it upside down,” Mattheo said, his smirk widening. “Harmless doesn’t leave Malfoy questioning his entire existence.”
Astra chuckled, swirling the remnants of her drink in her glass. “Alright, you’ve got me there. Maybe I’m a little dangerous.”
“And you love it,” Mattheo said, his tone teasing but his gaze serious.
Astra met his gaze, the air between them charged with unspoken tension. “Maybe I do.”
Before either of them could say anything more, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the room as someone conjured a fountain of green and silver sparks. Astra turned to watch, her smile widening as the party continued to spiral into delightful chaos.
This was her domain now chaos, challenge, and control. And for one night, the Slytherins were dancing to her tune.
The party was now an electrified storm of chaos and exhilaration, a raucous mix of laughter, music, and magic that pulsed through the room. Astra had done what she came to do turned the Slytherin common room on its head and she was reveling in every second of it.
By the fireplace, Astra glanced over at Mattheo, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes held a glint of amusement, but there was something else there too something sharp and intense that sent a thrill down her spine.
“You’re staring, Riddle,” Astra teased, raising an eyebrow as she leaned casually against the mantle. “Do I have something on my face?”
“Just that smug little smirk of yours,” Mattheo replied, his voice low and smooth as he stepped closer. “It’s infuriating.”
“And yet you can’t look away,” Astra shot back, her lips curling into an even wider grin.
Mattheo chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been told,” she said lightly, swirling the remnants of her drink before setting the glass down. “So, what’s it like, Mattheo? Watching your little Slytherin kingdom bow to me?”
“Bow to you?” he echoed, his tone teasing but his gaze serious as he moved even closer. “I think you’ve got it twisted, Potter. You’ve caused a stir, sure. But this isn’t your kingdom.”
“No?” Astra asked, tilting her head as she met his gaze. “It looks like I’m holding court pretty well.”
Mattheo’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Careful, Potter. You’re playing a dangerous game.”
Astra’s heart skipped a beat, but she refused to let him see it. Instead, she stepped closer, closing the small gap between them. “Danger’s kind of my thing.”
The air between them was electric, the noise of the party fading into the background as their gazes locked. For a moment, it was just the two of them, caught in a silent battle of wills.
“You’re trouble,” Mattheo said, his voice barely audible now, his eyes flicking to her lips and back to her eyes.
Astra smiled, her voice a soft whisper as she replied, “And you love it.”
Whatever retort Mattheo might have had was lost as Astra leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was equal parts challenge and invitation. He responded instantly, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her closer, the kiss deepening with an intensity that matched the chaos of the party around them.
Astra’s fingers tangled in his dark hair, and she couldn’t help but smirk against his lips as she felt him grip her tighter. It wasn’t just a kiss it was a clash of fire and will, a battle neither of them wanted to win.
When they finally pulled apart, both slightly breathless, Mattheo’s smirk returned, more devilish than ever. “I should’ve known you’d do that.”
“Should’ve seen it coming,” Astra replied, her tone light but her eyes glinting with satisfaction.
Mattheo chuckled, his fingers brushing against her waist as he leaned in close again, his lips just a breath away from her ear. “You’re dangerous, Astra Potter.”
“And you love it,” she whispered, her voice teasing as she pulled back, her grin firmly in place.
Before he could respond, Blaise’s voice cut through the air. “Oi, Riddle! Potter! Are you two planning to hog the corner all night, or are you going to share the chaos?”
Astra laughed, stepping out of Mattheo’s hold as she turned toward the crowd. “Don’t worry, Zabini. The chaos is all yours.”
Mattheo’s gaze lingered on her as she moved back into the fray, his smirk still firmly in place. Chaos, indeed. Astra Potter wasn’t just trouble she was a storm. And Mattheo, for better or worse, was ready to get caught in it.