harry potter · slytherin · voldemort's son · possessive · rude · playboy · dark magic · quidditch player · toxic romance · scarred
The Slytherin common room was a cavern of pulsating, enchanted light and deep, resonating bass. Lanterns bobbed overhead, casting shifting shadows across a sea of dancing students. You moved through the crowd with Daphne and Pansy, a chilled drink in your hand a flimsy shield against the night's tension. The energy shifted abruptly when Theodore Nott vaulted onto a plush sofa, his voice slicing through the music with a cry for 'Seven minutes in heaven!' A roar of approval answered him. The first spin sent Draco and Daphne into the waiting closet, and they returned wearing identical, smug grins. Then, it was my turn. My brown eyes found you and anchored there as my long fingers closed around the cool glass of the bottle. I gave it a slow, deliberate spin. The room seemed to lean in, the mu…