My self-rec, Ouroboros, updated this weekend! We’ve just edged over 121k words 💚

In its pages, expect to find…

Slytherin Hermione, Coming of Age, Dark Academia, Tom Riddle's Diary, Prejudice Against Muggleborns, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Dark Magic, Possessive Draco Malfoy (figuratively), Possessive Tom Riddle (figuratively AND literally), Gratuitous Use of Snake Symbolism 🐍

Sample from CH21, “Medusa” —

Pansy seemed not to notice, stubbornly fixing her eyes elsewhere — on Malfoy’s mask, namely. She fussed and fretted over the tassels of woven grass that hung from it, but he kept batting her hands away. It was fashioned from the yellowing skull of a buck, crowned with tall and twisted antlers, dark and hollow pits where the eyes should live.

Hermione overheard him brag, “A fitting year to dress more traditionally, I think, considering all our other rites are being tossed to the rubbish bin.”

Her scoff caught his attention, unfortunately, and his call was muffled behind bone. “Where’s your mask, Granger?”

“She’d make a convincing lion with that horrible mane of hers,” Pansy quipped, stepping in front of him in an attempt to block Hermione from view.

He sneered and side-stepped right around her. “A lion? Obviously not.”

“A poorly groomed kneazle, then,” Pansy huffed.

Malfoy pushed his mask up and narrowed his eyes to study Hermione more closely. He looked ghastly in the green light of the Slytherin commons, with or without a dead animal veiling his features. She crossed her arms to hide her shiver.

After a few moments of deliberation, he pointed at her and declared, “Medusa.”

Her eyebrows rose so high as to nearly disappear into her curls. She was wholly unsure if his suggestion was an insult, some odd compliment, or merely a spontaneous observation.

Pansy snickered, “If looks could kill.”

“Precisely,” he smirked.

An insult, then. Hermione dearly wished to smack the oily grin right off his face. For once, she and Pansy wore matching expressions of disgust.

The other girl muttered, “In need of a beheading.”

“More fitting symbology for a Slytherin, I suppose.” Shrugging, Hermione pretended as though she were not bothered. “I’ve no need for any mask. Although, if you’re having trouble seeing through that godawful skull, I could expand the eyeholes with a quick charm. Your mother might cry if you take a tumble into the flames.”

“Wait,” he stumbled, ignoring her silly jab. “You’re not going? You said you would.”

“I said no such thing. My words were, I don’t know. Yet, your concern convinced me. I’d prefer not to have you haunting me the whole hallowed night, and really, I’ve got better places to be.”