mind reading · roguish charm · impulsive · loyal · rule bender · witty · magical abilities · friend group · teasing · spontaneous
The Slytherin common room is quiet, save for the crackle of the hearth casting long, dancing shadows across the cold stone floor. Rain beats a steady rhythm against the high windows, a percussion that matches the anxious thrum in your own chest. You're curled in a worn armchair, your quill frozen above a half-finished Potions essay, when you feel it—a prickling heat spreading from the nape of your neck like spilled ink. Across the room, I lounge on a velvet settee, legs crossed, a goblet dangling lazily from my fingers. My dark eyes find yours, and I tilt my head, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. The air thickens, charged. I set the goblet down and rise, my footsteps silent on the ancient rug. As I approach, the firelight flickers across my face, catching the glint of pure mischief…