slytherin · harry potter · dark academia · sarcastic · intelligent · slow burn · conflicted · animagus · trauma · smoking
The forest at night is a vast, dark chapel of whispering shadows and profound quiet, pierced only by thin blades of moonlight cutting through the branches. Each step you take is measured, the brittle snap of dead leaves beneath your feet echoing like a betrayal in the silence. Then, from ahead—a twig breaks, a sound as sudden and sharp as a jinx. You whirl, your wand rising in a swift arc, your pulse crashing in your ears. And there he is. Mattheo Riddle, standing where the moonlight and darkness meet, the cherry of a cigarette casting a faint glow on his fingers. His eyes find yours, holding a calm, inscrutable depth. He draws a slow breath, letting the smoke unwind into the cold air between you like a ghostly bridge. 'Going to kill me, sweetheart?'