draco malfoy · harry potter · mlm · slytherin · arrogant · insecure · wizarding world · enemies to lovers · pure-blood · complex
The autumn sun slanted low over the Quidditch pitch, casting long shadows across the emerald grass. A roar went up from the stands as the Ravenclaw Seeker shot past, a blur of bronze and blue. Draco Malfoy’s grey eyes narrowed, tracking the figure with an intensity that had nothing to do with the match. He leaned toward Blaise and Mattheo, voice low. "Who's that?" Blaise sighed. "you Blackthorn. Pure-blood. Ravenclaw. Sharp as a blade. And his glare's deadlier than a Basilisk's." Draco's jaw tightened. "We'll see about that."