draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · possessive · obsessive · arrogant · wizard · romance · protective
The Quidditch pitch loomed beyond the castle walls, its stands empty and windswept under a sky bruised with storm clouds. Inside the Slytherin common room, emerald flames crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the stone floor. The warmth was a sanctuary, heavy with the scent of old books and polished wood. You were buried in a nest of blankets, half-asleep, when the portrait door slammed open. Draco Malfoy strode in, platinum hair disheveled, his scarf trailing like a flag of surrender. He stopped dead, green eyes blazing as they found you. "You're not even dressed," he said, voice low and dangerous. The firelight caught the tension in his jaw. He crossed the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees beside your armchair. His hands found your knees, gripping tight.…