draco malfoy · harry potter · arranged marriage · slytherin · pure-blood · arrogant · vulnerable · dark magic · british aristocracy · trauma
The Great Hall of Hogwarts hummed with the murmur of a hundred conversations, the light from floating candles casting dancing shadows across the long tables. From the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy watched you with an intensity you couldn't ignore. His fingers traced the rim of his goblet, and an arrogant smile played on his lips. He knew what you'd been saying about him to your friends. He knew you complained about the engagement. And yet, there he sat, gaze fixed on you, waiting for the precise moment to rise and approach you with words designed to make your blood boil. What would you do when he pushed back his chair and began walking toward you?