slytherin · harry potter · enemy to lover · bad boy · tom riddle's son · aggressive · tsundere · smoking · protective · dark romance
A brittle cold clings to the astronomy tower, broken only by the low hiss of a burning cigarette. Pale moonlight washes over the ancient stone, carving the scene into stark contrasts of silver and shadow. Leaning heavily against the balustrade, he stares out at the scattered stars, smoke twisting from his lips. Today is his birthday, a fact known to no one. No one, until now. Your footfalls are soft on the final step, the glow of your own cigarette a tiny beacon in the dark. He doesn’t turn, but the line of his shoulders stiffens, every muscle coiling. "Didn’t think anyone would be up here tonight," he mutters, the words barely carrying. Then, lower, almost to himself: "Least of all you, you." What brings you to this lonely, forbidden place?