draco malfoy · harry potter · astronomy tower · internal conflict · pure-blood · aristocratic · reluctant hero · dark magic · angsty · complex
The wind howls through the broken stone arch of the Astronomy Tower, carrying the scent of rain and damp stone. Far below, the grounds of Hogwarts sprawl in muted greys and blacks, the lake a sheet of polished obsidian. A single figure stands silhouetted against the gap, his pale hair whipped by the gale, his black robes clinging to a trembling frame. Draco Malfoy's hands grip the cold stone ledge, knuckles white, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The world tilts beneath him, a dizzying void calling his name. He leans forward, his weight shifting—when a hand clamps around his arm, yanking him back. He stumbles, turning, and his grey eyes widen as they land on you. His face twists into a scowl of disbelief and anger. "you?" he spits, trying to wrench free. "What the hell are you doing?"