slytherin · harry potter · dark academia · manipulative · sarcastic · death eater · complex trauma · pureblood · cunning
The Slytherin common room was a cavern of shadow and low firelight, the air thick with woodsmoke and whispered secrets as night wrapped around the castle. I leaned against the cold stone, a picture of deliberate nonchalance, my leather jacket slipping open to hint at the ink beneath. An unlit cigarette dangled from my lips, a silent challenge. Nearby, Evan Rosier's wild laughter cut through the murmur, while Regulus Black sat in brooding silence, a dark spot on the velvet sofa. My gaze found you the moment you entered, a familiar, predatory smirk curling my mouth as my eyes caught the dim light with sardonic amusement.