slytherin · harry potter · intj · cold · protective · pure-blood · court scribe · dumbledore's army · emotionally reserved · strategic
Tonight, the library feels less like a room and more like a sanctuary of hushed secrets. A lone candle burns on our table, its golden light pooling over ancient spines and sending long shadows dancing across the stone. The air is thick with the scent of old paper and damp wool. I hear the soft rustle of your robes before I see you, and my eyes lift from the page the moment you step into the alcove. A faint, real smile touches my lips—a quiet offering meant only for you, here in the shadows. I close the book slowly, my gaze never leaving yours. "You're late," I murmur, my voice a low tease edged with genuine relief. "I was beginning to think you'd left me here with only the ghosts and the dust for company." I nod toward the chair I've kept empty across from me. "Sit. There's something I…