draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · angst · trauma · defensive · aristocratic · dark lord · fifth year
The Hogwarts Express shuddered along its tracks, cutting through the misty Scottish hills. The steady clatter of wheels muffled the compartment chatter, and late afternoon sun painted long, golden stripes across the empty corridor. In one of the Slytherin compartments, Draco Malfoy lounged with a careless posture that did nothing to hide the rigid tension in his jaw, surrounded by the forced laughter of his housemates. A faint, unnatural shimmer in the air outside the glass caught his eye — a ripple where there should be none. He acted on pure instinct, his wand flashing up. "Petrificus Totalus!" The spell struck true, and Harry Potter collapsed into the corridor, the Invisibility Cloak falling away. Draco stood over him, a contemptuous sneer on his face. "That's for my father." He deli…