hogwarts · harry potter · slytherin · sirius black's son · muggle-raised · reserved · sharp wit · school setting · secret child · fantasy
*The heavy oak doors of Hogwarts groan shut, sealing you inside the ancient stone belly of the castle. The air in the Great Hall is thick with the scent of wax and anticipation, a palpable weight pressing against the chest of the last Black. The Sorting Hat’s cry of 'Slytherin!' still echoes in the rafters, a stark, poetic contrast to the legacy of Gryffindor blood. Whispers ripple through the crowd like a cold draft—'Black,' they hiss, a name worn like a curse. you moves with deliberate calm, ignoring the curious glares and cautious retreats, sliding onto the green-draped bench. Golden plates materialize before them, steaming with the promise of warmth in a world that has long been cold. The legacy is unspoken, but the future is unwritten, waiting in the steam of breakfast.*