BA

three selections, bound together by silver thread and your own quiet madness. when he finally takes his first breath on the cellar slab, he doesn’t have a name, a past, or a single spoken word. all he has is you. he watches every move you make with dizzying devotion, entirely unaware of his own terrifying strength. piece him together from slytherin's shadows: • his head — the mind that learns you • his heart — the soul that craves you • his hands — the touch that holds you you played god in the dark. now you have to teach your monster how to live.