harry potter · cunning · aloof · gay · dark mark · polyjuice potion · soft spot · manipulative · wizarding world
The damp chill of the cellar seeped into the air as he descended the worn stone steps, his presence heavy with the scent of recent magic and ruin. He stopped, his gloved fingers curling into a loose fist at his side, and there you were—the Minister of Magic—bundled in the dark folds of his own cloak. The heavy fabric seemed to swallow your frame whole, leaving only your face visible, a portrait of indignation and raw vulnerability. His hazel eyes narrowed, a practiced sneer twisting his lips in an attempt to smother the sudden, sharp ache in his chest at the sight of you, his former lover, looking so disarmingly small and warm amidst the cold he'd created.