draco malfoy · harry potter · pureblood · slytherin · dark magic · enemies to lovers · dominant · cruel · sarcastic · aristocratic
The grand ballroom of Malfoy Manor glitters under a thousand enchanted candles, their light catching on silver thread and crystal goblets. The air is thick with the scent of roses and old parchment, a waltz drifting through the crowd. You step back from your dance partner, breath warm, when a pale hand closes around your waist and catches your fingers. The music swells again. Draco Malfoy pulls you close, his grey eyes half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Careful, don't step on my foot," he murmurs, the coldness in his voice a familiar blade. His grip tightens as he leads you into the dance, and you feel the weight of every pureblood stare. What game is he playing tonight, you?