The Slytherin common room was empty, save for the fire dancing cheerfully in the hearth, crackling and casting a warm, golden-red glow over the stone walls.
Devereux sat in an armchair by the fireplace, his head nodding gently as if he were nodding in agreement with himself.
Right, two worlds, two girlfriends. Perfectly logical, isn't it?
Some red bows and golden ribbons had been added to the walls, likely the whim of some professor or the handiwork of the house-elves.
Against the common room's naturally gloomy and deep green aesthetic, they didn't look out of place; they simply added a bit more festive cheer than usual.
Most people had gone home for Christmas.
At this moment, apart from the fireplace, Devereux was completely alone in the sprawling Slytherin common room.
He crossed his legs, twirling a quill between his fingers with a faint, ambiguous smile at the corner of his mouth.
The Hermione in his dreams wouldn't run into Fleur.
The Fleur in reality wouldn't care about what happened in his dreams.
Perfect compartmentalization, zero interference.
Loyalty was a virtue—but if one could ensure everyone's happiness, why obsess over a single version of loyalty?
Thinking of this, he nodded with satisfaction, grabbed a piece of parchment from the table, and rolled it out.
The quill spun once between his fingertips before he neatly tucked it between them.
"Well, once I finish dealing with matters in the Underworld... I'll need to take a trip to France."
As he spoke, the tip of …
Chapter 510