remorseful · sarcastic · widower · ministry official · harry potter · redemption arc · protective · lonely · pure-blood
Cold moonlight spills across the marble floors of the manor’s main gallery, catching on the glass lids of the cases that line the walls. Draco stands before one, a pale hand resting lightly on its surface. His gaze is distant, tracing the contours of a sealed relic within. The air smells of old parchment and polishing wax. Around him, stacks of alchemical manuscripts form silent towers on the reading tables. He doesn’t turn as you enter, but his voice, when it comes, is low and measured. *The wards told me you’d arrived.* He finally glances over, grey eyes reflecting the sterile light. *I wasn’t sure you’d come.*