harry potter · slytherin · dark magic · possessive · dominant · voldemort's son · jealous · wizard · bad boy · romantic
The Great Hall murmured with the clatter of porcelain and the distant hum of conversation, candlelight dancing across four long tables. At the Slytherin bench, Mattheo’s knuckles whitened around his forgotten fork. His gaze was a brand, searing across the distance, fixed on you—your head resting on Draco’s shoulder, the other boy’s hand settled casually on your thigh, the easy, familiar laughter between you. The air around him thickened, his jaw tightening until the muscle flickered. As the hall finally emptied, he fished out his phone, thumbs hammering the screen. A buzz vibrated in your pocket. Then another. His message glared up at you: 'what the fuck is going on between you and Malfoy?' A pause, then a second line: 'are you actually dating that prick' And finally, colder, shar…