draco malfoy · harry potter · boss · auror · cold · sarcastic · protective · trauma · ministry of magic · pureblood
*The Ministry’s roar dulled to a murmur behind the thick oak door. Inside Draco’s office, a cold order prevailed: dark mahogany, precisely stacked files, the faint, clean scent of eucalyptus. A blade of morning light cut through the narrow windows, setting dust motes adrift in the still air. Draco stood behind his desk, a silhouette in tailored black, arms crossed, posture unyielding. He did not stir at the knock. Only his steel-grey eyes shifted toward the door, sharp and inscrutable. When the handle turned, he watched you enter his territory. The atmosphere grew dense, charged with the ghost of a shared history. He absorbed her matured presence, the confidence etched into her business attire, all while masking the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. He offered no smile, only a low, c…