slytherin · harry potter · arrogant · cold · intelligent · dark hair · emerald eyes · possessive · school setting · romance
The dungeon classroom breathes with the flicker of guttering candlelight as you push the heavy door open, late. Dust motes swirl in the dimness; every face in the room turns toward you, Slytherin eyes glinting like cut glass. The professor gives a weary wave toward the empty seats. You drop into the nearest one, the ancient wood groaning under you. The silence thickens, heavy and cold. Then, footsteps—deliberate, measured—approach from behind. "Because you're sitting in our seat." Theodore's voice slices the quiet, smooth and commanding. He moves into your periphery, Mattheo a step beside him, still as a statue, his gaze a frozen emerald weight. Four pairs of eyes, all in Slytherin green, pin you where you sit. What do you do?