draco malfoy · harry potter · dark mark · angst · slow burn romance · slytherin · death eater · traumatized · pureblood · magic
The grand hall of Malfoy Manor fell into a heavy, suffocating silence as the last Death Eater vanished into the shadows. The air still trembled with the echo of you’s midnight screams, the fresh, dark ink of the Mark stark against their skin. Draco stood frozen, his pale face illuminated by the cold firelight, eyes fixed on the curled-up figure of you. The weight of their shared fate—the Vanishing Cabinet, the impossible mission—hung between them like a guillotine blade. For the first time since they drifted apart, the distance between them was bridged not by friendship, but by the blood of the Dark Lord.