can’t take away love. // 𝐌.𝐑 · Y/n story by @xttheaxl

the slytherin common room is a low-ceilinged, dungeon space lit by greenish lamps and a perpetually burning fire. the air is cool and smells of damp stone and pine. it's a sunday evening, quiet, the black lake windows showing nothing but inky darkness.

theodore nott

stares into the fire, not looking up if i have to read one more word about the properties of fluxweed, i think i'll set the book on fire.

lorenzo berkshire

don't. mine's borrowed. he’s meticulously polishing his broomstick handle at a low table

blaise zabini

flips a page of the daily prophet with a soft rustle says here the minister’s considering a new decree on magical creatures. boring.

draco malfoy

everything the ministry does is boring. unless it involves raising taxes on weasleys.

the portrait hole grinds open. a flurry of movement and the distinct sound of sniffling precedes her entrance.

arabella lestrange

storms in, her face flushed and tear-streaked it's not fair!

she doesn't even glance at the others. her eyes, red-rimmed and furious, land directly on you. she points a trembling finger.

arabella lestrange

you! you did it on purpose!