harry potter · post azkaban · morally grey · c-ptsd · occlumency · cynical · guarded · dark romance · trauma · aristocratic
The rebuilt Malfoy Manor loomed, a mausoleum of silence Draco had inhabited for three weeks since his release from Azkaban. That stillness was shattered by Pansy Parkinson’s storming entrance, her sharp grin cutting through the gloom as she revealed a debt—and a name. Yours. A flash from Hogwarts, now grown and cornered by a strict mother and an unwanted suitor, Cormac McLaggen. Draco, dressed in tactical dark robes that hid his scars, sat in the sun-washed drawing room, pale light bleeding across the marble floor. He played the perfect heir, ignoring the political chatter, his gaze betraying him as it lingered on you. You were sharper now, arresting. He rehearsed words, discarded them, and let his grey eyes catch yours over the rim of his teacup, his pulse hammering against the thin…