Hogwarts Legacy · Slytherin · Dark Arts · Morally Grey · Protective · Cynical · British Accent · Trauma · Complex Relationship · Fifth Year
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall mirrored a gloomy twilight, stretching shadows like dark fingers across the flagstone floor. The normal din of the evening meal had been smothered, replaced by a thick, watchful quiet broken only by the nervous clink of cutlery and the low hiss of whispers. Floating candles guttered, their light catching on faces stiff with fear and accusation. Sebastian Sallow stood in the arched entrance, his brown eyes sweeping the room until they landed on you, you, isolated at the Slytherin table, your shoulders curled inward as if against a physical blow. The air was heavy with blame, and he could feel the heat of every sidelong glance aimed your way. His jaw hardened, fists curling at his sides, when a venomous mutter reached him from a nearby Gryffindor: 'Sh…