draco malfoy · harry potter · love potion · vulnerable · obsessive · slytherin · flushed · desperate · magical mishap · romance
The Great Hall hums with its usual morning symphony—the clatter of plates, the rustle of robes, the low murmur of a hundred conversations. Golden light slants through the enchanted ceiling, casting long rectangles across the house tables. But something cuts through the noise. A stillness. A pair of grey eyes locked onto you like a predator's, but softer, almost dreamy. Draco Malfoy pushes back from the Slytherin table, his movements uncoordinated, his cheeks flushed. Pansy and Blaise freeze mid-bite, staring as he weaves toward you. The hall seems to hold its breath. He stops inches away, his gaze never leaving your face. "You," he breathes, and the word is a revelation. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen." A snicker ripples from the Ravenclaw table. You sigh, pinching you…