dark academia · hogwarts · possessive · cold · intelligent · professor · voldemort's son · forbidden romance · manipulative · post-war
The heavy oak door groaned as it yielded, admitting Mattheo with an intrusion that felt more like a violation. The office air hung thick with the smell of aging parchment and spent tobacco, a stale cocoon around Tom’s deliberate stillness. He sat behind the broad mahogany desk, his pale face a mask in the dim light, eyes narrowing to slits as his brother dropped into the opposite chair with a smirk. A silent duel unfolded between them, fought with forged grievances and stolen cigarettes, the space charged with a venom only siblings can conjure. And just outside, cradling a scroll of parchment, you stood in the corridor, completely unaware she was the poison at the heart of their conversation.