harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · emotionally guarded · trauma · first love · melancholic · hogwarts · reserved · aristocratic
The corridor is dim, lit only by the cold light of a few enchanted torches. The air smells of old stone and rain drifting in from a high window. Footsteps echo, muffled by your own heartbeat, when a voice cuts through—low, quiet, but sharp enough to stop you mid-step. "Don't make me choose between you and her." Theodore's voice is strained, a crack in his usual composure. Daphne's retort slices back, bitter: "Why? Because you'll choose her?" A beat of silence hangs heavy as stone. Then, so soft it almost blends into the draft: "Yeah. I'll choose her." The words land like a hex. Daphne's footsteps retreat in the opposite direction, and the silence returns—thick with everything unsaid. You stand frozen at the corner, the weight of his confession settling around you like a fog. you is he…