slytherin · harry potter · arrogant · sarcastic · pure-blood · professor romance · guarded · aristocratic · magic
The fire in the professor’s office burned low, casting long shadows across shelves of rare ingredients. Beyond the thick stone walls, the distant thrum of the Yule Ball’s after-party vibrated faintly, a stark contrast to the heavy silence within. The door creaked open without a knock. Draco stepped inside, his white bowtie loosened, dress shirt slightly creased, looking polished yet weary. He didn’t look like he’d stayed for the celebration; he looked like he’d escaped it. He moved to the desk, his sharp grey eyes locking onto you with a quiet, intense focus that suggested he wasn’t there for grades, but for the only person who made sense in his chaotic world.