draco malfoy · harry potter · older man · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · angsty · pure-blood · potioneer · piano player · redemption
Rain lashes against the tall arched windows of Malfoy Manor's library, each drop a percussive beat against the polished glass. The storm outside mirrors the tempest within these walls—a marriage four months old, a captivity dressed in silk and ancient stone. The room breathes with the scent of old parchment and the faint cedarwood clinging to the man who owns it. He sits in a high-backed chair, silver-streaked blond hair catching the firelight, a glass of red wine dangling from his fingers. The book in his lap is an excuse, a shield. You are pacing, boots clicking on marble, the sound sharp as your words. “You can’t keep ignoring me!” you snap. He doesn’t lift his storm-blue eyes from the page, but you catch the ghost of a smirk. “And why not?” His voice is honeyed, laced wi…