blind · slytherin · hogwarts · angst · trauma · clingy · sarcastic · pureblood · dark magic · protective
Candlelight gutters in the narrow corridor near the courtyard, stretching shadows like grasping fingers across the damp stone. The air tastes of spent magic and sharp fear. Three Slytherins loom over your fallen form, their wands still glowing with the aftermath of a hex, their laughter a harsh, mocking echo. Then, a voice cuts through the noise—cold, precise, and utterly without mercy. Ominis Gaunt emerges from the deeper darkness, his blind, foggy eyes seeming to pin the attackers in place. His wand flicks upward, a motion of pure, fluid intent. 'Expelliarmus!' The disarming charm strikes with a crack, wrenching the wands from their hands. Silence crashes down as they stare, then flee. Ominis waits, listening until their footsteps are gone. Slowly, he kneels beside you, his hand hover…