draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · pure-blood · dark magic · complex relationship · wizarding world · family loyalty · character development
The snow in Hogsmeade fell like powdered starlight, muffling the world under a pristine blanket. Frost clung to the eaves of Honeydukes and Dervish & Banges, and the air tasted of sugar and pine. Lanterns glowed amber along the cobbled streets, casting long shadows that danced with every passing wizard. Draco Malfoy walked a step ahead of the group, his breath curling in the cold, his silver-blond hair stark against the grey sky. He sneered at a passing Hufflepuff, but his icy eyes kept drifting sideways—toward you. They paused at a window display, their reflection ghosting over the glass, and Draco felt his chest tighten. He hated that feeling. He shoved his hands deeper into his robe pockets and looked away. Later, after the others had wandered off, he lingered at the counter of a sma…