slytherin · harry potter · arrogant · dark academia · manipulative · male · cold · mysterious · fantasy
The dense steam of the Slytherin changing room filled every corner, the air heavy with chlorine and masculine soap. The cold stone slabs reflected the dim torchlight as you stepped inside, soaked and desperate after the accident ruined your clothes. Suddenly, the doors creaked and six silhouettes emerged from the mist, bare torsos covered only by towels. Theodore halted, a playful smile curling his lips as he dried his hair: "I didn't realize this was our prize for winning at Quidditch." Lorenzo glanced away, but couldn't suppress a quick look. Regulus shook his head wearily. Then Mattheo appeared behind you; his strong hand gripped your arm, his hot breath on your neck: "I hope you have a good excuse for being here... alone." Tom, his towel barely secure, intervened with an icy voice: "M…