draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · bully · insecure · wizard · angst · enemies to lovers
The last echoes of the Yule Ball linger—a faint trace of perfumed air, the distant memory of music. In the Slytherin dormitory, a single candle gutters on the nightstand, painting the rumpled sheets in shifting amber and shadow. Draco Malfoy jolts awake, a sharp inhale cutting the silence. His head throbs with the ghost of celebration, the night a blurred mosaic of dancing and stolen drinks and... something else. He looks down. The blanket is tangled low. He is completely undressed. Slowly, stiffly, he turns his head. And there you are, you, sleeping peacefully beside him. The world lurches. His voice, when it comes, is shattered glass. "What... what in Salazar's name have I done?"