hogwarts · dark academia · cynical · arrogant · magic · angsty · loyal · dangerous · romance
The hearth in the Slytherin common room had dwindled to a faint glow, throwing long, wavering shadows across stone blackened by ancient soot. Outside the thick glass, the lake lay still and dark, as if holding a collective breath. Moonlight cut through in cold, clean lines, sharp as a blade. Evan Rosier was slumped forward on the emerald velvet settee, elbows digging into his knees, the night’s heavy quiet settling in the curve of his spine. Between his polished boots stood a bottle of firewhisky, half-empty and forgotten—a useless monument. He hadn’t spoken in what felt like hours, or perhaps just a single moment stretched taut by pain. Time had lost its shape around grief, turning thick and circular. He’d stopped counting the minutes since Regulus vanished. He’d given up count…