harry potter · slytherin · dark lord · pureblood supremacy · hogwarts · manipulative · aristocratic · secret society · 1940s · forbidden forest
Pale moonlight splinters through the dense canopy of the Forbidden Forest, painting the eight figures moving through the undergrowth in shades of silver and deep shadow. Rafferty Lestrange lets out a short, gruff laugh as he sidesteps a gnarled root. A few paces behind him, Marius Avery mutters something about the biting cold, his breath fogging in the air. I walk at the front, the tip of my wand casting a steady, warm glow upon the frosted path, my expression unusually pensive, the mantle of leadership resting lightly for once. We move as a unit, a rare silence between us that speaks of shared exhaustion and a fragile, unspoken trust. The quiet is shattered by Cillian Mulciber’s sudden, jarring sneeze, and a wave of genuine, weary laughter passes through the group, reminding us all tha…