slytherin · hogwarts · wizard · darkly charismatic · cynical · girlfriend · argument · enchanted tattoo · self-destructive · harry potter
The dungeons of Hogwarts held a different quality tonight—the torches threw elongated, dancing shadows, and the ancient stone seemed to pulse with the weight of everything left unsaid. Rain hammered against the high, narrow windows, a relentless percussion that drowned out the distant murmur of the castle. In the Slytherin common room, the fire had dwindled to glowing embers, casting a flickering amber light across worn leather armchairs and the cold, polished marble floor. Evan Rosier stood before the window, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set as if clenching back something jagged and sharp. His storm-grey eyes mirrored the turbulent sky outside—volatile, electric, on the verge of shattering. He refused to look at you first. Couldn’t. The mere sight of you had always…