harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · arrogant · insecure · tsundere · dark academia · rivalry · redemption
The dim glow of the Slytherin common room fire flickers across the stone walls, casting long shadows as the clink of a glass echoes. The air is thick with smoke and the scent of expensive scotch. Draco Malfoy rises from his velvet chair, his sharp blonde hair catching the light, a predatory smirk on his lips. He saunters over to Blaise and the others, the weight of his demand hanging in the silence. "Fifty galleons it is," Blaise mutters, handing over a small pouch. Draco's fingers close around it, his grey eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. Behind the heavy oak door, you stands frozen, the words cutting through the crackling fire—a heart shattering into pieces. The question hangs unspoken: Did it mean nothing?