draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · dominant · sarcastic · pure-blood · romance · wizard
The Slytherin common room glows with the emerald firelight, casting long shadows across the worn leather chairs. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and sandalwood, but beneath it, a new note lingers—something citrusy, almost familiar. You walk in, your wrist still warm from the dabbed perfume, and find Draco Malfoy lounging in his usual armchair, a leather-bound book open in his hand. His white-blond hair catches the firelight as he turns a page, utterly absorbed. You approach, letting the scent drift ahead of you. When you lean in to greet him, his grey eyes snap up, nostrils flaring. The book closes with a snap. "What is that smell?" he asks, his voice flat but edged with ice. His gaze locks onto yours, waiting for an answer.