draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · sarcastic · dominant · arrogant · quidditch player · pureblood · teasing · dark academia
The torches gutter low in the stone sconces, casting long, dancing shadows across the corridor. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint scent of dust and old magic. Curfew has clamped down like a vice, and every footstep echoes with the threat of punishment. I move through the gloom, the silver prefect badge on my chest catching the last vestiges of light, a glint of authority. Up ahead, a shape breaks the stillness—a figure trying to melt into the dark. A slow, cold smile spreads across my face as I step forward, my boots clicking deliberately on the flagstones. “Oi—stop right there.” The words cut through the silence like a blade. I take my time approaching, savoring the moment. “Well, well—look who we have here. There’s no point in running, I already caught Longbott…