Oh, the torment bred in the race,
the grinding scream of death
and the stroke that hits the vein,
the haemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,
the curse no man can hear.
But there is a cure in the house
and not outside it, no,
not from others but from them,
their bloody strife. We sing to you,
dark gods beneath the earth.
Now hear, you blissful powers underground-
answer the call, send help.
Bless the children, give them triumph now.
Pale, arrogant, and despicable, Slytherin.
When the age of wizards falls behind
When mudbloods begin to despise wizards
When a pureblood falls in love with a so-called mudblood
When Gryffindor fell in love with Slytherin
cp Draco or the Weasley twins