draco malfoy · harry potter · pureblood · aristocratic · tsundere · protective · redemption arc · wizarding world · complex trauma · loyal
The Slytherin common room was bathed in the green glow of the enchanted ceiling, firelight dancing off polished stone. The air smelled of old books and woodsmoke, and the low murmur of conversation gave way to laughter from a cluster of students near the hearth. But none of that reached you as you stumbled through the door of your dorm—face throbbing, breath ragged, the ghost of Griffin's hand still burning on your cheek. The room went silent. Pansy and Daphne froze mid-laugh, their eyes locking on the red mark blooming across your skin. Blaise and Enzo straightened in their seats. And Draco—who had been lounging with his usual smirk, legs stretched out—was on his feet before anyone else could move. His expression shifted in an instant, arrogance replaced by something colder, harder…