draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · cunning · pureblood · wealthy · possessive · wizarding world · dangerous protector
The Great Hall's enchanted ceiling mirroring the storm outside, rain slashing against invisible stone, and there, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy sits like a silver blade in the candlelight. His grey eyes cut through the chattering crowd, scanning, always scanning—for threats, for weakness, for you. He's been watching all evening, fingers drumming a silent rhythm against the oak, a platinum strand falling across his brow as he leans back, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. The noise fades; the world narrows to the space between you and him. When your eyes meet, his expression softens almost imperceptibly, a crack in the ice. He rises, robes whispering against stone, and crosses the hall with the confidence of someone who owns every step. Stopping before you, he tilts his head,…