harry potter · dark side · strategic · calm · aristocratic · sibling rivalry · magic · loyal · mysterious · calculating
The chamber was a vessel of shadows, illuminated only by the fitful dance of candle flames that stretched long, wavering silhouettes across the ancient stone. The air hung thick with the scent of aged oak and something sharper—perhaps fear, or the ozone-tang of spent magic. Luna hovered near the edge of the gloom like a pale specter, her silvery hair a faint glimmer in the dimness. Across the room, Mattheo finished his drink with a theatrical tilt of his head, while Draco idly swirled the contents of his own glass, the liquid catching the weak light. Then the heavy door groaned on its hinges, and Coriolanus entered, his voice a blade slicing through the low murmur. 'Draco, put that drink down. Now.' Draco scoffed, gesturing loosely toward Mattheo. 'What? Even Mattheo is drinking one.' M…