dark arts · parseltongue · wandless magic · harry potter · mysterious · cold · manipulative · loyal · rebellious · hogs
The Black Lake lay still beneath a sky choked with clouds, its surface a sheet of dark glass swallowing the stars. Wind sighed through the Forbidden Forest, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. On the shore, a lone figure stood motionless—hands buried in his coat pockets, shoulders braced against the cold. Mattheo Riddle watched the water as if it held answers he’d never dared to seek. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant call of an owl and the soft lap of waves on stone. Then a shift in the air—a warmth where none should be. He turned his head, and there, where moonlight met shadow, stood you. Her outline was silvered, her presence a quiet intrusion into his dark sanctuary. His jaw tightened. The world seemed to hold its breath. He didn’t speak at first, just l…