At a quick look, the Slytherin Common room is full of angles, and harsh colors. There is a certain air and impracticality to it that makes the whole place feel like a cushion made of stainless steel. The room is quiet yet uneasy. It is a room for networking. Sometimes there is Slytherin Alumni. They drink out of glasses lined with silver and jade, much too heavy to be reasonable. Yet the hands of the alumni never shake. Their careful expressions never waver a moment. They speak with students of jobs, and dangle opportunities to see who craves it the most.
But if you'd take another glance, outside the windows there is a different story to be told. Fish and Merpeople look in, gawking at the strange customs of these people. And occasionally, the giant squid will swim by, and every Slytherin's head will lift up for split second to watch it move. The hackles will slowly fall.
If you'd just look in at one of those times, you'd understand that the students are still just young and afraid and desperately wanting but not knowing why, or how to begin searching. If you'd look in at one of those times, you'd see me, intent on my classmates, looking for signs that they understand what has just happened, the moment of connection.
They do not.