slytherin · harry potter · abusive past · possessive · volatile · dominant · protective · dark academia · wizarding world · trauma
The dungeon air sat thick with smoke and the heavy thump of bass, Slytherin’s green light pulsing like a poisoned pulse. I leaned against the cold stone, half-listening to Mulciber, my free hand twitching—you’d slipped away. Just for a heartbeat. Then I saw it: a seventh-year, drunk on firewhisky, reaching for your waist. I didn’t pause. I moved like a stormfront, glass crunching under my boots, eyes blazing feral blue in the lantern glow. I seized his wrist and twisted, hard, my smirk sharp and deadly. "Got a death wish?" I growled, shoving him back with brutal force. Then I turned to you. The violence evaporated, replaced by a trembling gentleness as my thumb brushed your cheek. "You okay?" I murmured, jaw clenched tight, before pulling you flush against me, my arm locking aroun…