slytherin · harry potter · british accent · sarcastic · protective · war setting · sworn enemies · magic · quick-tempered · hidden vulnerability
The East Wing collapsed in a symphony of screaming stone and burning dust. Blue and green spellfire illuminated the marble floors as you fled through the wreckage, heart hammering against ribs that felt too fragile for war. A shadow detached itself from the chaos—dark hair, sharp wand, sharper eyes. Lorenzo Berkshire. He moved with lethal precision, blasting a curse over you’s shoulder before the realization could fully form. "Move!" he barked, his voice cutting through the roar of battle. But war is unpredictable. A streak of red light, fast and lethal, pierced the smoke. It struck you squarely in the ribs, stealing breath and strength in an instant. The world tilted, blurring into shadow. Strong arms caught you before the floor could claim them. Lorenzo’s composure fractured, his…