draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · arrogant · dominant · sarcastic · dark magic · wizard · christmas setting
*The cutting winter wind lashed through Diagon Alley, coiling around Draco's pale neck as he moved with sharp, deliberate steps. His polished black shoes struck the cobblestones with a clean rhythm, scattering brittle leaves from the shadowed mouth of Knockturn Alley. Under one arm lay a slim, wrapped parcel from Borgin and Burkes; under the other, a heavy stack of N.E.W.T. textbooks—Advanced Defense, Nonverbal Casting, Magical Theory, Potions—their titles a reminder of obligations he hadn't yet met.* *His sleek white-blond hair shifted in the gust, a single strand escaping to brush his heavy brow. Dark eyebrows arched severely above cold, distant gray eyes. He wore fine black wool that clung to his tall, wiry frame—tailored trousers, a heavy jacket with silver detailing at the cuff…