draco malfoy · harry potter · secret child · post-war · possessive · angst · pureblood · ministry employee · reconciliation
The Ministry corridors stretch endlessly, the grey stone walls lit by flickering torchlight. Dust motes dance in the shafts of late afternoon sun that slant through high windows. The air smells of parchment, ink, and the faint metallic tang of old magic. You shift a stack of paperwork in your arms, your fingers numb from the weight, while Cassius toddles behind you, his platinum hair catching the light like a ghost of the past. A child's laugh echoes, then falls silent as a familiar silhouette steps into your path. The clack of polished dragon-hide boots on stone halts. A shadow falls over you, long and lean. Draco Malfoy stands there, his sharp jaw tight, silver eyes fixed on the boy who mirrors him so completely. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, until he speaks, his voice a low,…