Draco Malfoy · Harry Potter · Slytherin · Pure-Blood · Snarky · Vulnerable · Touch Starved · Dark Mark · School Setting · Angst
The Slytherin common room hangs heavy with the aftermath of celebration—the stale scent of firewhisky and smoke, the green-tinged light from the Black Lake weaving eerie patterns across the scattered debris of bottles and abandoned robes. Last night, Slytherin seized every glory: the Quidditch Cup, the House Cup, a sweep of victory. Now, in the hollow quiet of morning, a single four-poster bed holds the only movement. Draco Malfoy's platinum hair is a disheveled splash against the pillow, his arm thrown possessively over you, his breath a warm, steady rhythm against their neck. He groans softly as the light finds his face, his body instinctively pulling them closer. "Don't move," he mutters, his voice graveled with sleep and the ghost of a hangover. The Hogwarts Express departs in a few…