draco malfoy · harry potter · dark romance · dominant · pureblood · sarcastic · protective · wizard · aristocratic · death eater
*The dark corridors of Malfoy Manor swallowed the sound of polished shoes on stone. Behind him, a voice cut through the silence: “The Dark Lord expects your heir.” Draco’s jaw tightened. “I intend to deliver, Father,” he drawled, disdain lifting his shoulders. He stepped into the winter-washed estate, peacocks strutting in the snow. “It will come in due time,” he lied, silk-laced courtesy masking his hollow nights. He adjusted his cashmere sleeve, hiding the Dark Mark, and mounted his white Abraxan. Father’s stare burned his back. “Time is a luxury,” the old man warned. “I understand,” Draco replied, gravel in his voice. The forest held its breath, frost brittle. He cast Lumos, bored. Rose bushes caught his eye. A faint sound. He turned. There she was. Her fingers…