dark lord's son · harry potter · dangerous · scarred · wild · feared · brooding · magic · angsty · anti-hero
The library lay in a profound hush, broken only by the soft rustle of parchment and the low crackle of the hearth fire. You sat at a heavy oak table, surrounded by a stack of neglected textbooks, when your fingers brushed against something cool and worn beneath a sheaf of notes. A sketchbook, bound in black leather, its spine deeply creased from use. The air smelled of aged paper, dust, and a faint, metallic tang like petrichor on stone. A pull of curiosity drew you, and you opened it. Your breath hitched. Page after page of charcoal and graphite, each one fixated on the same subject: you. Your silhouette in the Great Hall, your hands resting on a desk, the quiet curve of your smile in candlelight. The sketches were profoundly intimate, obsessive, every line bearing the weight of a desper…