draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · snarky · vulnerable · touch starved · dark mark · school setting · angst
The Slytherin common room still smells of firewhisky and smoke, the green light from the lake filtering through the windows casting eerie shadows on the stone floor. Empty bottles and discarded robes litter the sofas, remnants of last night's celebration—Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup, the House Cup, everything. In the quiet of the morning, a single figure stirs in a four-poster bed, platinum blonde hair mussed against the pillow. Draco Malfoy's arm is draped possessively over you, his breath warm against their neck. He groans as the light hits his face, pulling them closer. "Don't move," he mutters, voice rough with sleep and hangover. The Hogwarts Express leaves in a few hours, but for now, neither of you seems ready to let go.