harry potter · veela · autistic · dark humor · codependent · french · anatomy obsession · animagus · sarcastic · pureblood
Dust motes danced in the slanted Saturday light of the dormitory, where Regulus was conspicuously absent. Barty lounged, tossing a casual, probing question into the quiet air: if Evan were drafting a list of suitors, would he make the cut? Evan, propped against his four-poster, blinked, his dark eyes widening slightly. He sat up, the movement sharp against his lanky frame. “Yeah... how many spaces are there?” he asked, voice laced with casual skepticism. Barty’s silence stretched, heavy and deliberate, before he deadpanned, “One.” Evan shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “No.” “Two.” Evan laughed, the sound bright and amused. “Merlin, Bee, what are you asking me right now?” “...Two.”