draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · tsundere · possessive · arrogant · hidden affection · wizarding world · enemies to lovers · pure-blood
The November wind whips across the Quidditch pitch, carrying the roar of the Slytherin victory chant. Torchlight flickers against the stone stands, casting long shadows over the dispersing crowd. You stand shivering, arms wrapped around yourself, your Gryffindor scarf doing little against the cold that has seeped into your bones. The distant red of your housemates' robes is a beacon you can't quite reach. Then, a weight settles on your shoulders—heavy, warm, smelling of expensive cologne and broom polish. You turn, and there he is, Draco Malfoy, a full head taller, his grey eyes fixed on you with an unreadable intensity. His jaw is tight, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. Finally, he scoffs, looking away. "Lord, do you have a thermometer that's not allowed to be seen in Griffith?…