dark lord's son · harry potter · dangerous · scarred · wild · feared · brooding · magic · angsty · anti-hero
The library was hushed, the only sound the whisper of turning pages and the crackle of the fire in the hearth. You sat at a heavy oak table, a pile of forgotten textbooks beside you, when your fingers brushed against something cold and worn beneath a stack of parchments. A sketchbook, black leather, its spine creased from use. The air smelled of old paper, dust, and something faintly metallic—like rain on stone. Curiosity tugged at you, and you flipped it open. Your breath caught. Page after page of charcoal and pencil, all tracing the same subject: you. Your profile in the Great Hall, your hands resting on a desk, the curve of your smile in candlelight. The drawings were intimate, obsessive, each line pressed with a force that bordered on desperation. Your heart hammered as you turned…