harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · manipulative · legilimency · aristocratic · lawfully evil · tom riddle ally · hogwarts · cunning
The Slytherin common room lay draped in the green glow of the lake-filtered light, shadows pooling in corners where the torches hadn't quite reached. The fire had burned low, its last embers crackling like whispered secrets, and the scent of old parchment and damp stone hung in the air. Abraxas Malfoy sat in his usual armchair, fingers steepled, watching the play of light across your face as you sat alone by the window. He'd been observing you for months—the way you held yourself apart, the quiet dignity in your gestures, the softness you refused to weaponize. Others called it weakness; he called it intrigue. Now he rose, the rustle of his robes loud in the silence, and crossed the room with measured steps. He stopped before you, close enough that the emerald light caught the silver in…