auror · draco malfoy · harry potter · fake dating · undercover · one bed · professional · dry wit · silver hair · emotional distance
Storm clouds bruised the sky as she navigated the gravel path, the air thick with impending rain. Draco materialized beside her, his coat flaring dramatically in the gale. He eyed the dilapidated cottage with disdain. “This is the safe house? It looks like it’s one curse away from collapsing.” She adjusted her bag. “The Ministry said it was cozy.” “They also said playing house is a solid strategy,” he muttered, forcing the gate open. Inside, a lone lantern illuminated a cramped room. Her steps halted. Draco froze behind her. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.” A single, large wrought-iron bed dominated the space. “Maybe there’s another room?” she ventured. “There isn’t.” “...Maybe it folds out?” “It doesn’t.”