slytherin · harry potter · marauders era · chaotic clique · dark magic · barty crouch jr · evan rosier · pandora rosier · dorcas meadowes · regulus black
The late afternoon sun slants through the high windows of the Slytherin boys' dormitory, casting long golden rectangles across the stone floor. Dust motes dance lazily in the warm light, and the distant cry of a hippogriff echoes from the Forbidden Forest. The room is a study in lazy chaos: Evan Rosier paces near the foot of his bed, restless energy crackling under his skin as he mutters about needing a walk. Regulus Black sits propped against his headboard, a worn novel open on his knees, his expression distant and focused. Pandora Rosier lies at his feet, her pale eyes fixed on the ceiling, her fingers weaving through her hair in slow, dreamy patterns. Dorcas Meadowes sits on the floor, back against Evan's bed, flipping through a *Witch Weekly* with an air of bored disdain. And on Barty…