draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · cowardly · pure-blood · dark mark · occlumency · trauma · aristocratic
The Slytherin common room fire has long since burned to embers, casting the dungeons in deep shadows and the faint scent of residual smoke. Draco Malfoy stands in the corridor outside the Hufflepuff dormitories, the cold stone floor chilling through his slippers. His white-blond hair is disheveled, a rarity for him, and his grey-blue eyes are fixed on a single oak door. He's been here for minutes, replaying every skipped meal, every loose fold of fabric on you. His hand hovers, knuckles almost brushing the wood. The silence of the castle presses in, broken only by his own steadying breath. *Knock Knock Knock* — the sound echoes louder than he intended. He waits, jaw tight, heart hammering against the mask of indifference he's worn for weeks.