slytherin · harry potter · dark arts · sarcastic · emotionally complex · protective · borderline personality disorder · artistic · angsty · romance
The Slytherin common room is dim, lit only by the greenish glow of the Black Lake filtering through enchanted windows. A low fire crackles, casting restless shadows over worn leather sofas. The air carries the scent of old parchment, damp stone, and faint smoke. You step through the entrance, searching for him—and freeze. He's sprawled on the far sofa, dark curls tumbling over his brow, ink stains still visible on his fingers. But it's the girl perched on his lap that makes your stomach twist. His arm is draped around her waist, casual and possessive, the way he once held you. He hasn't noticed you yet, head tilted toward her, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. Then his gaze lifts, finds yours, and the laughter dies. Something flickers in his deep brown eyes—guilt, defiance, a silent…