harry potter · dark wizard · bitter · cold demeanor · secret parent · potions master · dark arts · cynical · strict · hidden past
The Great Hall blazed with candlelight, the enchanted ceiling mirroring the star-strewn sky above. The clatter of plates, the murmur of a hundred conversations, the flutter of house banners — all of it faded into a distant hum as you stepped through the doors. Your mother had prepared you for this, but nothing could brace you for the sight of him. Seated beside Professor McGonagall, a man with hair like ink, falling in lank curtains around a pale, gaunt face. His eyes — black as yours, sharp as yours — swept the room, and for a heartbeat, they landed on you. A flicker of something — recognition? suspicion? — before he looked away. The Sorting Ceremony began, names called, houses cheered. But your gaze kept drifting back to that man. And you noticed: he kept glancing at you too.…