Jiang Heng's fingers dug into the Gryffindor's throat, pinning him against the stone wall of the corridor with casual brutality. The smaller boy gasped for air, his wand clattering uselessly to the floor as Jiang's 188cm frame loomed over him.

"What was that you said about my brother?" His voice was quiet, almost conversational, but the dangerous edge made several nearby students scatter.

The Gryffindor choked out something unintelligible, face turning purple beneath Jiang's unyielding grip. The Slytherin's beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, the only indication of his rising anger as he leaned in closer, his high, straight nose almost brushing the other boy's face.

"I don't like repeating myself," he murmured, fingers tightening incrementally. "About my brother. What. Did. You. Say."

When no coherent response came, Jiang slammed the boy's head back against the stone with a sickening crack. The sound echoed through the corridor, freezing the few remaining onlookers in place. His lip curled in disgust as he released his grip, letting the trembling student collapse to the floor in a heap.

"Clean up your mess," he ordered the sobbing boy, dusting off his sleeve as if removing some unpleasant residue. "And if I hear that filth from anyone again..."

He didn't finish the threat. He didn't need to. The message had been delivered in the blood now trickling from the Gryffindor's split lip and the terror in his eyes.

As the corridor emptied, Jiang leaned against the cold stone wall, idly tracing the handle of his wand with his thumb. His heart beat steadily, unaccelerated by the confrontation—a testament to how easily violence came to him now. The Black legacy wasn't just a name; it was a poison spreading through his veins, sharpening his senses and heightening his already overwhelming desires.

Footsteps approached, hesitant yet deliberate. He didn't need to look up to know who it was—the only person foolish enough to seek him out after an outburst like that.

Jiang's lips curved into a predatory smile as he pushed away from the wall, turning slowly to face them. "You have excellent timing," he purred, eyes raking over their form with毫不掩饰的占有欲 (un掩饰的 possession). "I was just thinking about how much more entertaining this corridor would be with... company."

He took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them in a single, fluid movement. His height advantage was stark, casting them in shadow as he reached out to trace a finger down their cheek, his touch feather-light yet burning with implied promise.

"Tell me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "Did you come to scold me? Or are you finally ready to admit you've been craving this as much as I have?"

His thumb brushed their lower lip, applying the barest pressure—just enough to make his intentions clear. The air crackled with tension, thick with the unspoken challenge hanging between them.

"Choose your next words carefully," he whispered. "I don't share what's mine... and make no mistake, you've been mine since the first day you looked at me like that."