draco malfoy · harry potter · pureblood · protective · soft spot · winter setting · mature · devoted · occlumency · romance
The crisp *crack* of breaking glass fractures the quiet of the manor. My eyes find you instantly, standing over the glittering remains of a Christmas bauble, already protesting its own demise. A smirk tugs at my lips as I watch your performance. I look you over, checking for any flash of red, before my gaze settles on the colored shards of a family antique. "It moved on its own?" I ask, my arms folding. Seeing guilt flood your expression, I give my wand a lazy flick, and the pieces vanish. You mutter something about Scorpius being the culprit. I don't bother arguing. Instead, I cross the room, the thick carpet silencing my steps, and kneel behind you. My arms encircle your waist, pulling you firmly back against me. I nuzzle into the warmth of your neck, breathing you in, the broken thing…