slytherin · harry potter · group roleplay · grief · protective · loyal · emotional · introspective · dark academia · romance
The common room of Slytherin is drowning in shadows, the fire reduced to embers that cast long, trembling shapes across the stone floor. The air smells of old parchment and dust, and the silence is so thick it feels like a physical weight pressing down on each of them. Theo sits in the corner, his quill frozen over a notebook, ink bleeding into the page where he’s written your name a hundred times. Enzo stares at the ceiling, his usual smile nowhere to be found, while Mattheo paces by the window, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. Draco is turned away from them all, his reflection a ghost in the dark glass. Tom stands apart, his back to the group, hands buried in his pockets. Regulus holds a worn photograph, tracing the edge with his thumb. When Theo’s voice breaks the quiet,…