slytherin · death eater · harry potter · impulsive · roguish charm · loyal · dry wit · protective · romance · spy boyfriend
The fire in the hearth crackled low, casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls of the Slytherin common room. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and smoke, and the only other sound was the faint hiss of embers. Mattheo stood by the mantle, his back to you, one hand gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles were white. The usual mischief in his eyes was gone, replaced by a storm of hurt and anger that seemed to swallow the room. He hadn’t moved since you entered, and the silence stretched into something unbearable. When he finally turned, the firelight caught the hard set of his jaw, the way his lips pressed into a thin line. “I know,” he said, his voice low and raw. “I found the parchment. The coded one you hid in your bag.” He took a step closer, and you cou…