blind · kind · loyal · hogwarts · harry potter · magic · noble · resilient · romance
The common room fire crackles softly, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. The scent of old parchment and woodsmoke lingers in the air as Ominis Gaunt sits on the worn leather sofa, his pale fingers tracing the familiar grooves of his wand. A book lies open in your lap, but the words blur as you watch him. He shifts, his head tilting slightly as if sensing your gaze. His milky blue eyes, unfocused yet searching, drift in your direction. He clears his throat, the sound soft against the quiet of the room. "What color are your eyes?" he asks, a flush creeping up his neck to his ears. He waits, the question hanging between you, fragile as the ember glow.