slytherin boys react

lorenzo berkshire: interviewing them as a criminal psychologist

you sit in the sterile and unwelcoming conference room of azkaban. opposite of you, bound in restraints charmed with magic, was your infamous subject, a death eater. his eyes, although guarded, held a dark curiosity as he observed you. the electric tension between the two of you was palpable.

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he leans back slightly in his chair. his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

you take a moment to collect yourself, trying to remain professional despite his disarming demeanor. you glance at his file once more, the cold details of his crimes staring back at you.

"your time in here is supposed to provide an opportunity for understanding and rehabilitation." you say, keeping your tone neutral.

he tilts his head, a faux look of innocence spreading across his face. "rehabilitation? you make it sound like i need fixing." he lets out a soft chuckle, his restraints clinking with the movement. his gaze remains fixed on you, studying your reaction.

you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his feigned disbelief. "well, your actions have brought you here, to this room." you state bluntly, trying to maintain control of the conversation.

he laughs again, a low and melodic sound that manages to catch you off guard. "you're not wrong there, love." he replies with a cocky smile.

"it's y/l/n, not love." you say.

he raises an eyebrow at your correction. "feisty," he observes, his grin widening. "i like it." he leans forward slightly, as much as his restraints permit. the room suddenly feels closer, the air charged with tension.

"y/l/n..." he repeats, his voice dropping lower. "pretty. suits you."

flustered, you clear your throat and try to focus on the task at hand. this man was dangerous, a known criminal, and you had to remember that. "we're not here to discuss my name," you say, your tone firm.

he leans back again, but his predatory gaze never leaves you. "i could think of a lot of things i'd rather discuss." he replies, his words laced with innuendo.

you feel a heat rising in your cheeks and force yourself to look away from his intense gaze. this man was a master at manipulation, and you couldn't let yourself get drawn in. "we need to focus on your case," you say, trying your best to sound professional.

he lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "and what if i'd rather focus on you?"

you take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. this was a man who had committed unspeakable crimes, and here he was, making suggestive comments. "i'm your psychologist, not your plaything," you respond, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice.

he smiles again, his eyes flickering with amusement. "oh, but you could be both."

he grins, his eyes sparkling with a dark light. "i'll tell you a little secret." he leans in slightly, as if sharing a naughty secret.

he grins, his eyes taking on a darker edge. "you want to know what makes me feel alive?" he asks, leaning back in his chair. "it's taking... control," he says, emphasizing the word. "specifically, taking the happiness away from.." he pauses, his gaze roaming over you. "girls like you.."

"it makes me feel alive," he shrugs, his tone dripping with a sinister implication. his gaze is intense, studying you intently, as if he's seeing right through you.

"your turn," he adds, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "what makes you feel alive?"

you feel a pang of fear at his words, mixed with a strange fascination. you didn't want to admit how much his presence was affecting you.

"it doesn't matter what makes me feel alive," you say, avoiding his gaze. "this is about you, not me."

he laughs, a soft and melodic sound. "oh, love, everything is about you right now. i want to know you, inside and out."

his words send a shiver down your spine. how could a dangerous criminal be so charming and seductive? you force yourself to stay focused, trying to hide the effect he's having on you.

"you don't get to know anything about me," you say, your voice firm. "i'm here to understand your mind, not the other way around."

he smirks at your defensiveness, as if he finds it amusing. "you think i can't figure you out, even without you telling me?" he challenges, his voice laced with confidence.

"you think i don't notice how you react to my words, how your breath hitches ever so slightly, how your heart races when i look at you like this?" he leans forward suddenly, his face just inches away from yours.

"you can't manipulate me," you whisper, your voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

his grin widens, his eyes fixed on your face. "who says i'm manipulating you, sweetheart?" he murmurs. "maybe i just find you utterly captivating, and i can't help myself."

"stop it," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

his gaze softens, a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes. "stop what?" he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

the sudden switch in his tone catches you off guard. the intense, almost predatory, edge in his voice is replaced with something that almost sounds like... genuine interest?

"you know what," you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady. "this... flirting, or whatever you're doing. it won't work on me."

he let out a small laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "see, you say that," he murmurs, "but your body is telling a different story." his gaze drops to your neck, where your pulse is beating wildly. he grins as if he can see right through you.

you feel your cheeks flush, knowing that he's right. the way your heart is racing right now, the way your body is reacting to his proximity, you can't deny it.

"that doesn't mean anything," you say, trying to sound nonchalant. "it's just physiological response."

"now enough. we need to talk about your notebook, the list of those you targeted." you say, your voice slightly wavering.

he lets out a sigh, as if he's slightly disappointed that the conversation has shifted. "always business, aren't you?" he teases, leaning back in his chair.

"very well, love. ask me about that damn notebook," he says, his voice losing some of its earlier warmth.

you take a moment to compose yourself, trying to ignore the way your body is still reacting to him. you take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand.

"the list," you say, trying to keep your voice firm. "the one you kept of all the muggle women you targeted. why?"

he leans back further, his expression turning serious. "why did i keep a list, you mean?" he responds. "because i wanted to remember all their faces," he says, his voice low and cold. "i wanted to remember every single one of them."

his words send a chill down your spine. there's something so cold and detached about the way he speaks about these women. you press on, knowing you need to understand more.

"but why? why target women in the first place?" you ask, your voice slightly shaking.

he smiles, but it's a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "women are fascinating, love," he says, his voice taking on a dark tone. "the way they react, the emotions they show. it's captivating. they're so much warmer than men."

he pauses, his gaze flickering over you again. "they're so much more fun to play with.. and they're very beautiful." he says. "just like you."