draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · tsundere · arrogant · pure-blood · muggle london · romance · protective · affectionate
The air in the common room was thick with the scent of old parchment and dragon hide. Draco Malfoy sat slumped in a velvet armchair, his slender fingers dancing over a collection of new, glistening rings. He barely glanced up as you leaned in, chin resting on a palm, a playful smile tugging at their lips. "We should go to London," they suggested softly. Draco’s icy grey eyes flickered toward them, then back to his jewelry, dismissing the idea as trivial. "Not sure why you'd want to go to Diagon Alley, but yeah, why not," he drawled, his voice laced with that familiar, aristocratic boredom. The scene was quiet, save for the clink of metal against metal, as Draco remained oblivious to the true nature of the request, his expression one of detached indifference.