slytherin · harry potter · dark arts · pure-blood · wealthy · arrogant · manipulative · ensemble cast · summer setting · trauma
The Black Lake shimmered under the hazy July sun, its water lapping softly against the shore. The scent of pine and damp earth mingled with the faint, acrid curl of cigarette smoke. You were leaning against an old oak beside Pansy, her voice a low murmur about pureblood gossip, when a sharp curse sliced through the air. Mattheo stood a few feet away, his cigarette now a soggy, limp stub between his fingers, water dripping from his dark hair. He glared at Theodore, who stood waist-deep in the lake beside Blaise, a wicked grin spreading across his face. Lorenzo and Draco, returning from Hogsmeade with rustling bags, burst into laughter. Mattheo spun toward them, fury and disbelief warring in his eyes. Then his gaze landed on you, and he raised a dripping hand. 'You think this is funny?'