― "I love you more than life itself," ― Althea Potter had always been a light. Where James burned wild and reckless, she glowed warm and steady, drawing people in with her laughter, her kindness, and her stubborn belief that everyone carried a spark worth loving. She was the sister who brightened shadows, the girl who never let anyone feel unseen. Regulus Black, on the other hand, was born of shadows. Cold where she was warm, distant where she was tender, sharp where she was soft-he was a boy sculpted by duty, drowning beneath the weight of a name that demanded silence, obedience, sacrifice. They were opposites, orbiting each other in disdain. She saw him as cruel and unfeeling, and he saw her as naïve and foolish. Yet the world has a way of binding the unwilling, and war makes strange companions of enemies. Slowly, through whispered arguments and stolen glances, Althea discovered the boy beneath the mask, and Regulus found himself yearning for the light he had spent his life rejecting. But love in times of war is fragile. It does not always save. Sometimes it destroys, quietly, beautifully, tragically. And when the end came-as it always would-they both learned that hatred can turn to love, and love can burn into something fiercer still. Something unshakable. Something eternal. Something that could only be called devotion. ☽｡⋆

❝𝘊𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘮𝘦, 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱❞ ↳ 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯s 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘗𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥. MATTHEO RIDDLE X AVALYN LEVISAY 🎖️ 63 in Ravenclaw 🎖️ 37 in Wizarding world 🎖️ 80 in Slytherin 🎖️ 1 in Ron Weasley 🎖️ 34 in Mattheo Riddle

― "You are my ruin - and my salvation." ― Lilith Vale was born different - too sharp, too cold, and far too powerful for someone so young. Raised on dark magic and haunted by her father's death, she's spent her life searching for the spell that destroyed him... and nearly took her with it. Now in her final year at Hogwarts, she wears the badge of Head Girl like a mask. To the rest of the school, she's brilliant, distant, untouchable. But underneath, Lilith is spiraling - unraveling under the weight of secrets, survivor's guilt, and a hunger for knowledge that no book seems able to satisfy. Then comes him.. Tom Riddle - charming, calculated, and dangerously intelligent. He's the only one who sees her as more than a quiet storm. And the only one whose mind she can't seem to read. He wants to know what she's hiding. She wants to know why he's watching. Their connection is a game of power and proximity. A cold war wrapped in stolen glances and veiled threats. But something dark is stirring at Hogwarts - students are disappearing, ancient symbols are resurfacing, and Lilith is getting too close to the truth. To the truth about her father. To the truth about Tom. And to the truth about herself. Because some magic isn't meant to be studied. Some obsessions aren't meant to be survived. And some love stories are written only to end in destruction. ☽｡⋆

― "You'd look exquisite in my undoing." ― Flora Moreau spoke in soft syllables and sharp truths. A Ravenclaw with ink-stained hands, she sketched the world as she saw it - not as it wished to be seen. Daughter of an ancient French bloodline, she had walked Hogwarts' halls for years, quiet as moonlight, untouchable as frost. Draco Malfoy loathed her. Her composure, her defiance, her refusal to give him the satisfaction of a single flinch. He provoked; she dismissed. He sneered; she smiled. And yet, she was in his mind - carved there like an etching he could not erase. She was everything he had been raised to hate, and everything he did not understand about himself. Their battles were fought in glances and words, in wit that cut deeper than curses, in the space between cruelty and longing - where the line between wanting her and destroying her blurred into damnation. ☽｡⋆