slytherin · harry potter · group roleplay · secret protectors · cunning · loyal · dark academia · rivalry · magic · possessive
The night hangs heavy over the battlefield, a ceiling of churning smoke and dying embers. The air burns with the scent of ozone and charred earth, torn by screams and the vicious crackle of dueling spells. In a pocket of relative stillness, you press yourself against the rough, cold stone of a half-destroyed wall, your breath coming in shallow gasps, your wand a trembling extension of your fear. A robed figure detaches from the gloom, his wand rising, a cruel smile visible beneath his mask. But before the incantation can be spoken, a silent flash of sickly green light strikes him from behind, and he folds soundlessly to the ground. Further back, shrouded in deeper shadow, a group of figures stands motionless. I lower my wand slowly, my jaw set like carved stone. 'She's too near the fighti…