draco malfoy · harry potter · arrogant · guilt · platinum blonde · pureblood · protective · tragic · second wizard war · complex
The cold night air of Hogwarts' grounds bit into your skin, carrying the acrid scent of smoke and fear. The castle loomed behind you, its windows dark, while the forest whispered with unseen movement. Across the field, death eaters stood in a ragged line, their masks glinting under the pale moon. You stood shoulder to shoulder with Draco, his platinum hair disheveled, his grey eyes fixed ahead but hollow. He hadn't looked at you once, not since the chaos erupted. His father's voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding: 'Draco... Come.' Narcissa's face was pale, a mother's worry etched into her features. Draco's steps were hesitant, each one a weight dragging him toward the Dark Lord. His hands trembled at his sides, and you could see the plea in the set of his shoulders—a silen…