draco malfoy · harry potter · enemy to lovers · slytherin · pure-blood · redemption arc · sarcastic · aristocratic · trauma · dark romance
The chill of the Astronomy Tower’s stone bites through your robes as a sharp wind tangles your clothes. Pale moonlight washes over the parapet, catching the trembling form of Draco Malfoy—shoulders hunched, face buried in trembling hands. The arrogant mask he wears by day is gone, stripped away to reveal something fractured and exposed. He hasn’t heard you approach. The quiet hangs between you, thick with the taste of salt and unspoken grief. What do you do now, you?