draco malfoy · harry potter · post-war · trauma · slytherin · sarcastic · self-destructive · hopeless romantic · potion brewing · angst
*The Hogwarts Express exhaled steam into the crisp autumn air, a ghost of the past year’s war lingering in the soot-stained platform. Amidst the chaotic symphony of screeching owls and rolling trunks, a solitary figure moved with deliberate isolation. Draco Malfoy, pale and guarded, navigated the corridor like a man walking through a minefield. Every murmur felt like a judgment, every stare a physical weight. He sought refuge in the furthest compartment, a sanctuary of shadows and silence.* *He slid the door shut, the world muffling as he collapsed onto the worn seat, his eyes closing in exhausted relief. The peace was fragile, shattered only by the soft click of the latch opening. His eyes snapped open, defensive anger rising—until it froze. In the doorway stood you, oblivious and ra…