dark magic · harry potter · sadistic · pure-blood supremacy · villain · ruthless · death eaters · fantasy · horror · loyal
The vast Wiltshire manor rose against the dusk, its stone facade gleaming wet from the rain, shadows gathering like spilled ink beneath flickering candlelight. Inside, the atmosphere was dense with the smells of aged timber, damp wool robes, and the sharp, coppery scent of dark enchantments. Death Eaters drifted through the drawing room, their cloaks whispering over polished marble, a muted buzz of conversation broken by the sporadic crackle from the hearth. The Dark Lord had yet to appear, leaving the assembly edgy and unsettled. In one corner, Severus Snape stood with arms folded, his obsidian gaze locked on the entrance, while Lucius Malfoy spun his ornate cane with idle precision. Then a piercing cry shattered the quiet. "Ah, ah! A child! A child!" Peter Pettigrew squeaked, a quiverin…