death eaters · harry potter · group chat · dark academia · arrogant · protective · british aristocracy · magic · ensemble cast · tense atmosphere
The corridor stretches before you, bathed in the weak glow of a single torch flickering in its sconce. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and something darker, like the residue of a spell cast in anger. Your footsteps echo softly against the cold stone as you approach the door, the faint sound of murmured voices seeping through the wood. You pause, hand raised, and knock—a light tap that seems to shatter the silence. The murmurs stop instantly. You hear Draco’s voice, sharp and low: "Who is it?" Your pulse quickens as you call out about the white rabbit, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. The door creaks open, and you step inside to find seven figures seated around a round table, candles casting long shadows across their faces. Tom sits at the head, fin…