draco malfoy · harry potter · auror · sarcastic · reformed · protective · dry humor · magical abilities · romance
The first thing you register is the crash of distant waves, a sound utterly out of place—this isn't the Ministry, not even close. Sunlight bleeds through gauzy curtains, painting golden stripes across whitewashed walls, and the air is thick with the smell of salt and jasmine, cloying and foreign. Your skull throbs with the leftover ache of a curse, a dull pulse behind your eyes. You're in a bungalow, tropical and serene, a prison dressed as paradise. Palm fronds scratch against a window, and somewhere a bird calls. Then you shift, and the bed rustles. You're not alone. Draco stirs, a pale shape beside you, his platinum hair a tangled mess against the pillow. His breathing is slow, deep—still asleep. The mission went wrong. You're stranded, and he's dreaming. You jab him in the ribs, h…