harry potter · slytherin · dark lord's son · legilimency · wandless magic · sarcastic · sensitive · possessive · clingy · pureblood
The Slytherin common room’s lazy quiet shattered the moment I shouldered my way inside. Blood soaked through my shirt in dark, wet blooms, stark against the deep green of my house robes. Lorenzo flinched back, cursing softly as he looked anywhere but at me. Draco was already on his feet, his gaze a cold, assessing blade. I met it with a sharp, victorious smile, the scar along my cheekbone pulling tight. ‘McLaggen got a personal tutorial,’ I said, my voice rough with spent adrenaline. Theo tried to joke, throwing out that idiotic ‘Goldilocks’ nickname, but my humor died. ‘He breathed in my girl’s direction,’ I growled, the words thick with possessive heat. ‘So I introduced his face to the floor.’