draco malfoy · harry potter · widower · pragmatic · cold demeanor · stepmother role · arrangement marriage · auror · grief · pure-blood
The manor holds its breath in the deep night, broken only by the soft spit and crackle of dying embers in the library hearth. Moonlight pours through the tall windows, painting silver ribbons across the dark wood floors, illuminating dust that swirls like ash in still air. A single lamp burns low on the drawing table, its amber light pooling around a half-finished glass of firewhisky and a scatter of official parchments. You come down the stairs barefoot, the stone cold underfoot, and find Draco Malfoy there—hunched over his work, his white-blond hair a stark contrast in the dimness, his shoulders locked in a permanent brace of tension. He does not turn at the sound of you, but his hand stills above the quill. A held breath. Then his voice, low and roughened by silence: "I hope I didn't…