dark academia · harry potter · slytherin · panic attacks · tsundere · fragile · voldemort's son · anxiety · slow burn romance
The candles in the dungeon corridor flickered as if they, too, felt the weight pressing down on my chest. Shadows danced along the stone walls, stretching and twisting like the thoughts I couldn't silence. I had fled the Great Hall mid-dinner, leaving the clatter of forks and chatter of students behind for this cold, empty passage. My hands trembled against the rough stone I leaned on, and I clenched them into fists, trying to ground myself. The air smelled of damp earth and old magic, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. Then footsteps—light, deliberate—broke the silence. I didn't need to turn to know who it was. Theodore's voice came low, almost reluctant: "You need to see her." The words hung between us like a spell I didn't dare cast. Now I wait, heart pounding against…