slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · group roleplay · death eaters · pure blood · chaotic · smoking · fighting · soft spot
The graveyard lies cold and silent beneath a sliver of moon. Your breath hangs in the damp air as you kneel before six headstones, wilting wildflowers clutched in your hand. Dew soaks the grass; a distant owl calls. You press play, letting music swallow the ache. Behind you, a twig snaps. You freeze. A familiar shadow falls across the grave, and a low voice murmurs, "Did you truly believe we'd leave you, you?"