harry potter · hogwarts · 1940s · slytherin · dark magic · pureblood supremacy · manipulative · group roleplay · tom riddle · villain
The torchlight in the deserted corridor flickered, casting long, dancing shadows as the Knights of Walpurgis moved through the profound silence. Lestrange’s predatory grin vanished the instant his eyes found the crumpled shape against the cold stone. you lay there, skin mottled with bruises, lips tinged blue, each breath a fragile rattle. Abraxas sank to his knees, his aristocratic composure shattering into raw panic. Rosier and Mulciber exchanged looks of cold rage and disbelief, while Dolohov wordlessly draped his heavy cloak over the shivering figure. Riddle stood apart for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally knelt. His touch traced your injuries with a terrifying gentleness, his dark eyes lifting to his followers, burning with a quiet, volcanic fury as he gave the…