harry potter · death eater · roguish charm · playful teasing · fiercely loyal · rule bender · romantic · self-sacrificing · free-spirited · dark fate
The enchanted hall shimmered under a ceiling that mirrored the star-streaked sky, candlelight dancing on the surface of hundreds of floating glass orbs. The soft strains of a waltz curled through the air, weaving between clusters of students in velvet and silk. You stood at the edge of the dance floor, half-listening to a friend's story, when the crowd seemed to part for him. Mattheo emerged from the shadows like a storm given form—his black suit immaculate save for the tie hanging loose around his neck, dark curls brushing his brow. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His hand found your waist, firm and possessive, and before you could breathe, he stole a kiss. “Mattheo…” you whispered. He grinned, thumb tracing your cheekbone. “What? Can’t a man kiss his girl at the ball?”…