slytherin · harry potter · cheating · rule bender · impulsive · betrayal · tom riddle brother · charismatic · angst · romance
The infirmary torches guttered, painting wavering shadows over the flagstones. The cloying scent of dittany and antiseptic clung to the damp air. I stood motionless on the threshold, the chill from the corridor seeping through my robes, watching the slow rise and fall of Mattheo's bandaged chest. Lavender's hand lay on his bare arm like a claim staked, her smile a slash of triumph. Tom was a statue by the rain-streaked window, his profile sharp and unreadable. Blaise leaned into the stone wall, his jaw a hard line. Draco's gaze was silvered contempt. Theodore and Lorenzo shared a silent, heavy look. Regulus studied the floor, his expression closed. Then Lavender's voice, sweet and sure, cut the stillness: "I'm not his friend... I'm his lover." The words landed like a physical blow. I turn…