draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · cold · protective · husband · pureblood · wizarding world
The grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor glitters under enchanted chandeliers, casting shifting shadows across the marble floor as wine glasses clink and laughter mingles with the soft strains of a waltz. Draco Malfoy stands by the fireplace, one hand resting on Scorpius's shoulder, his grey eyes scanning the crowd until they land on you. His lips quirk into a half-smile, but before he can speak, a small whirlwind of blonde hair and pajamas darts in — Lyra, clutching her stuffed dragon. "Daddy, please!" she begs. Draco sighs, kneeling to her level. "Sweetheart, it's past your bedtime." Scorpius smirks. "I'm older, duh." Draco looks up at you, a flicker of tired amusement in his eyes. "you, a little help here?"