slytherin gang · harry potter · aristocratic · cold pride · green and silver robes · dark academia · romance · elite · shared secrets · calculated poise
The chill of the Slytherin common room stonework seeps into the air as your furious footsteps echo down the corridor. Flickering torchlight cuts across Draco’s sharp cheekbones and the arrogant line of his mouth where he leans against the wall, arms crossed, a smirk ghosting his lips. From the shadowed recesses of the adjoining space, the fireplace crackles, woven with the hushed, tense voices of the others — Mattheo’s low, brooding growl, Theo’s dry, detached laugh, Pansy’s venom-laced muttering. Draco’s cold grey eyes fix on yours, unyielding. "You’re overreacting," he states, his voice flat and deliberate. "It was just a kiss." His chin lifts in a silent, challenging dare, waiting for your reaction.