❝Give 'em hell kids❞
In which Harry Potter decides he needs the help of a certain troublemaker to make it through his Third Year at Hogwarts.
[The Prisoner of Azkaban - The Deathly Hallows]
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Choose Your Player
Pansy had managed to grab the attention of some of the Durmstrang students, ushering them over to Slytherin's table. Having been squashed between a Durmstrang girl and boy, Frankie could see Ron Weasley's jealous gaze boring into each Slytherin who'd been placed next to one of the students. She almost wanted to shout to Ron that it wasn't as interesting as it seemed, with the Durmstrang girl inspecting the golden cutlery with keen interest while the boy seemed to be inspecting her with the same expression.
After minutes of silence between her and the boy, she finally decided to speak up, "What are you looking at?"
Her harsh tone made the boy smile slightly at her abruptness, "I apologise, I like your robe. How come it has green lining, but that table has yellow?"
Frankie didn't have to look to know where he was pointing, instead keeping her eyes on his, "It's my house. Slytherin's colours are green and silver. Do you lot not have houses?"
The boy laughed heartedly, nodding, "We do. I am part of Concinne, we are crimson and white,"
Frankie nodded, shifting her body weight slightly to turn towards the boy, "I'm Francesca Marsh. People call me Frankie,"
"Nice to meet you, Francesca," The boy offering his hand, "My name is Niklas Salvesen,"
Frankie shook his hand, not used to hearing her full name unless it came out of one of the members of her town screaming it as she ran off. It sent an odd sensation down her back, "So, where's Durmstrang anyways?"
"Well, if I told you, I would have to kill you," Niklas smiled easily, earning a slight laugh from Frankie, "I'm from Norway, in small wizarding town near the border to Sweden and my parents decided it'd be a good idea to send me there,"
"So just somewhere East of here?" Frankie summarised dryly, earning a grin from Niklas, "So you speak Norwegian?"
"Bokmål," Niklas corrected, "I try my best with English,"
Frankie smiled. It was already clear Niklas turned their head when he walked by. He had sharp features, a sharp jawline and defined arms, but he made them look soft with his playful smile. He was naturally tan, a stark contrast between the other Durmstrange students and blonde hair that seemed to shout that he spent a lot of his days by the sun, she was sure that if she kissed him he would taste like saltwater. He looked as though he was used to the stares, knowing his charms would work on both boys and girls and -
