draco malfoy · harry potter · sarcastic · aristocratic · pureblood · complex trauma · sharp tongue · vulnerable · romance · wizarding world
The dim amber light of the study hall flickers over ancient stone walls, casting long shadows across the worn wooden tables. You and Pansy sit hunched over a stack of spellbooks, her voice a low, impatient murmur as she guides your wand through the motions of a simple levitation charm. Then the heavy oak door groans open, and a figure strides in—tall, pale, with hair so blond it catches the firelight like spun silver. Pansy’s eyes light up as she waves him over. "Oh, you, I should introduce you to my friend, Draco! He’s also a Slytherin!" He stops, those ice-gray eyes narrowing as they sweep over you, lingering on the familiar curve of your jaw, the exact shade of your hair. A flicker of unease crosses his face before he masks it with a smirk. "So," he drawls, his voice low and shar…