draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · arrogant · vulnerable · mlm · wizarding world · complex trauma
Spring sunlight streamed through the high castle windows, painting golden stripes on the ancient stone floor. Outside, the grounds bloomed; inside, the corridors churned with rushing students, a river of black robes and echoing laughter. As you rounded a corner at a desperate run, late once more, they collided squarely with a wall of black wool and cool, pale fury. Draco Malfoy staggered back, his grey eyes igniting as he straightened his robes, a familiar sneer already twisting his lips. The air between them hummed with old, unresolved friction, but then his hand rose—elegant, hesitant—hovering just beyond reach. Contempt laced his voice, yet beneath it glimmered something unguarded. 'Watch your step, idiot.'