Universal Slytherin Robe Novels & Stories

The colors were a harmonious blend of the northern and southern kingdoms' insignia - the golden lions of the north and the silver eagles of the south, intricately embroidered on the sleeves, chest, and hem of the garment. The robe itself was a flowing masterpiece, with billowy sleeves that cascaded down my arms like a river of gold. The collar was high and rounded, framing my face like a work of art. The chest was adorned with a gleaming silver brooch, shaped like the wings of an eagle, its eyes glinting with a fierce intensity. The hem of the robe was long and flowing, with a delicate fringe that swayed like a gentle breeze as I moved. Around my waist, a golden sash was tied, its ends hangi

Could I bear the thought of being the one who let them down? Lost in my internal debate, I barely noticed as the palace maids dressed me. They had chosen an elegant robe for me, one that was fit for a royal occasion. It was made of the finest silk, a shimmering azure that seemed to capture the essence of the deep ocean. Intricate embroidery adorned the edges, forming delicate patterns of sea creatures and exotic flora. The robe flowed gracefully, its hem brushing the marble floor of the closet.

Toy cars littered the front path in a rough circle around an overturned milk crate. A rust-stained bedsheet hung diagonally across the walkway, tied between a tree and the fence like a makeshift barricade. Beneath it crouched a small boy with a plastic ice-cream container jammed over his head like a helmet. He pointed a wooden stick at my chest. “Are you a Slytherin?” he asked, speaking through a heavy lisp. “Sorry?” “You can only come in if you’re from Gryffindor.” Freckles dusted his nose like toasted crumbs.

"And what are you, little pup? Just an assistant. Know your place." Lisa moved to reclaim the robe, but I caught her wrist. "She’s right, Lisa. That skin suits her 'purity' perfectly." Lisa saw the glint in my eyes and stepped back. She knew I was laying a scent-trail, even if she couldn't see the trap yet. Aside from the color, the robes were identical: form-fitting, high-collared, with silver embroidery like frost on a windowpane. Riley looked radiant in the white, her vanity acting as a beacon. She laughed, thinking the black silk would make me a dull, invisible backdrop to her sun.

the younger maid whispered quietly while cleaning the wounds. I looked at her weakly. “You don’t have to apologize.” Her eyes filled briefly with pity before she looked away quickly. Nobody here met my gaze for long because fear ruled this castle. After the bath, they handed me a dark purple robe made from silk so soft it barely felt real against my skin. I hated it instantly. It felt less like clothing and more like decoration, a possession being dressed for display. One of the servants guided me toward a large bedroom afterward. Food had already been prepared on the table beside the fireplace.

Moonlight already bathing the stones in silver. We returned to the chambers to prepare. Servants had laid out ceremonial robes. Deep forest green for me. Midnight black trimmed with silver for Ronan. We dressed each other with careful hands. Fingers lingering on skin. The bond sang with every touch. Ronan tied the sash at my waist. His breath warm against my neck. "You look like mine. Finally." "I always was." I replied. Adjusting the clasp on his robe. "Even when we fought it."

His voice was a low, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate against the very walls of the room. I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. Draco didn't come from the bookshelf I had entered through. He emerged from a shadow near the weapon cabinet, his suit jacket discarded, his sleeves rolled up to reveal corded muscles mapped with faint, jagged scars. He looked like the devil himself, eyes dark and unreadable, cutting through the space between us with predatory grace. "Draco," I breathed, my lungs tight. I dropped the object back onto the velvet-lined tray, the clatter sounding like a gunshot in the confined space.

Yvayn bowed to the old wizard. “It is good to see you young man. Now give me a hug.” Yvayn stepped up and hugged him and kissed him on both of his hairy cheeks. He was wearing a long purple satin robe trimmed in a band of golden flowers backed in a layer of blue satin. He wore a skullcap of purple satin that was trimmed in a golden rope and divided into twelve pie-sliced shapes each divided by a thin gold band. He had on a matching purple tunic under his robe that was trimmed with golden flowers and a golden rope wrapped around his waist. On his legs he wore long black leather boots that were turned down at his knees with dark purple hose underneath.

A corner desk had new parchment along with magic quills, and shelves were lined high with ancient, blank tomes to be inscribed. My closet creaked as it swung open, showing the uniforms in my size: the silver-buttoned, black-coated uniforms, blouses, and cloaks in plain black trim. When I touched one of the cloaks, the lining of it came to life in red and gold threads, and the picture of the broken crown was for one moment before it disappeared.

The pussy hadn’t done it and I was tired of waiting. I whistled for the first time while putting on my school uniform. It could be worse. Rochester’s colors were black and white, à la Hogwarts. The girls could wear black skirts and jumpers with white logoed blouses. The boys had black pants with ties and collared shirts.