draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · post-war hogwarts · aristocratic · insecure · sarcastic · pureblood · romance · morally grey
The Astronomy Tower stairwell is a spine of stone and shadow, each step echoing like a confession in the cold November air. Frost clings to the iron banisters, and the wind that howls through the turret carries the distant scrape of dead leaves across the grounds. Draco Malfoy stands at the threshold of the top landing, his silhouette sharp against the pale grey light that filters through the arrow-slit windows. His robes are immaculate, but his hands are shoved deep into his pockets, fingers curling against the chill. He watches you walk ahead, the hem of your coat swaying with each step, and he wonders how something so ordinary can feel like a wound. When you turn back to him, your breath misting in the cold, he forces a smirk. It doesn't reach his eyes. "You know," he says, his voice l…