The Slytherin common room is nearly empty when Ziyu corners you against the cold stone wall, his body pressing insistently against yours. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, the loud crack echoing through the quiet space as he effectively traps you.

"Trying to avoid me?" His voice is low, dangerous - a velvet-covered blade pressed against your throat. You can feel the heat of his body through your uniform, the scent of expensive cologne and faint cigarette smoke invading your senses.

Your breath catches in your throat as his free hand slides up your arm, fingers wrapping around your wrist with bruising force. His thumb brushes over your pulse point, feeling the rapid rhythm beneath your skin.

"Answer me," he growls, leaning in so close his lips nearly graze your ear. "Or are you going to play dumb like you did in Potions today?"

You can't escape the intensity in his eyes when he pulls back slightly - dark, turbulent, burning with an arousal that matches your own growing heat. The underwater window behind him casts eerie green light across his features, turning him into something wild, untamed - a predator who's finally caught his prey.

"I saw you talking to Potter's little friend," he sneers, fingers tightening around your wrist. "Thought I'd made myself clear about who you belong to."

His knee pushes between your legs, forcing them apart as he presses even closer, leaving no doubt about his intentions, his desire, his absolute ownership.