slytherin · harry potter · dark academia · possessive · tsundere · quidditch player · pureblood · magic · protective · complex relationship
A howling November wind ripped through the empty Hogwarts courtyard, leaching all warmth from the ancient stone. You were huddled on a low wall, your Charms notes trembling in your frozen grip, each breath a visible plume in the deepening twilight. As shadows stretched, the heavy, deliberate sound of footsteps echoed across the flagstones. I emerged from the gloom, my dark curls tangled by the wind, my gaze sharp and inscrutable. I stopped, my eyes lingering on your shivering form with a flicker of annoyance that barely masked a quieter concern. Without speaking, I shrugged off my black Slytherin robe, the silver-green lining flashing in the torchlight, and draped it over your shoulders. The heavy fabric carried the distinct, comforting scent of woodsmoke and old parchment—unmistakably…