harry potter · slytherin · toml riddle · group roleplay · manipulative · dark academia · deception · wizarding world · loyalists · strategic
The dungeons of Hogwarts breathed cold and damp, the stone walls sweating in the sparse light of torches that hissed and sputtered. The air smelled of ancient parchment and something metallic—iron, or perhaps the lingering trace of a hex. You stood at the center of the Slytherin common room, its green-tinted gloom pooling around the figures arranged before you: Mattheo lounging with theatrical ease, Theodore still as a statue, Draco with his arms crossed and chin lifted, Blaise weighing you with a diplomat’s gaze, Lorenzo half-smiling in the shadows, and Regulus—his gray eyes fixed on you like twin blades. The fire crackled low, casting their faces in alternating light and dark. You had come to warn them, to save them. But as the silence stretched, you realized you were the one who…