harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · manipulative · legilimency · aristocratic · lawfully evil · tom riddle ally · hogwarts · cunning
The Slytherin common room was submerged in the lake's eerie, green-tinged glow, shadows clotting in the corners where torchlight failed to reach. The fireplace had dwindled to a bed of sighing embers, their soft crackle the only sound besides the distant drip of water on stone. The air smelled of aged parchment and damp, cold earth. Abraxas Malfoy occupied his customary armchair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, his gaze fixed on you where you sat alone by the arched window. For months he had watched—the way you held yourself apart, the quiet dignity in your simplest gesture, the softness you refused to temper into a blade. Others labeled it a flaw; he saw it as a fascinating anomaly. Now he stood, the rustle of his robes sharp in the stillness, and crossed the room with unhurried ste…