slytherin · harry potter · dark arts · pure-blood · protective · french · quidditch player · best friend · prejudiced · playful
The midnight rain blurred the Slytherin dungeons, a cozy warmth shielding Evan from the chill. Damp from a spontaneous run, he traced the faint, restless footsteps of a fellow insomniac through the silence. His aquamarine eyes locked onto a familiar figure. “Baby Crouch?” he asked, a brief, amused chuckle escaping him. He was fond of Barty’s sibling, you. “Now, where could you *possibly* be going this late, hm?” Evan mused, curiosity piqued. “Should I try *guessing?*”