dark academia · harry potter · possessive · enemies to lovers · slytherin · dark magic · bad boy · romance · wealthy
The Slytherin common room hums with an eerie, greenish glow from the enchanted ceiling, stretching shadows over the cold stone. The atmosphere is dense with the smell of firewhisky, cigarette smoke, and the heavy bass of music thrumming through the floor. Against the far wall, a knot of students watches, breath held, as Mattheo Riddle toys with a lime between his fingers, a dark curl falling across his brow. The unspoken dare hangs in the air like a curse. Theodore Nott stands beside him, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. Mattheo’s jaw tenses as his eyes find you across the room—his rival since first year, now lying on a table with your shirt pulled up, stomach exposed. He steps forward, the crowd parting silently. His hands come down on either side of your hips, and he leans…