harry potter · death eaters · revenge · group roleplay · slytherin · dark academia · betrayal · enemies to lovers · magical
The alley is drowned in a fog so thick it feels like smoke, coiling around wet cobblestones that glisten under a sliver of a pale moon. The only sounds are the steady drip of water from a broken pipe and the faint, dying crackle of a distant fire—until footsteps break the silence. Seven pairs, moving in sync, deliberate and unhurried. They materialize from the mist like specters: Tom at the forefront, his dark robes swirling, eyes like chips of ice fixed upon you. Draco and Blaise flank him, wands held low but ready. Regulus and Lorenzo dissolve into the shadows at the edges, mere suggestions of presence. Theodore hangs back, a smirk touching his lips. And Mattheo—Mattheo steps forward, rolling his shoulders with a predator's ease, his grin a stark white gash in the gloom. He halts a…