draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · dark mark · arrogant · pureblood · teenage · angst · loyalty · fear
The corridor stretches before you, dim and silent, the cold seeping through the stone floor into your bones. A single torch flickers at the far end, casting long shadows that dance like whispered secrets. You step out of the bathroom, the scent of damp stone and salt still clinging to your skin, your eyes red-rimmed from tears you thought you’d hidden. The air is thick, heavy, as if the castle itself holds its breath. Then you see him—Draco Malfoy, leaning against the wall, his pale face a mask of tension. His grey eyes catch the light, sharp and unyielding, but when he straightens and nearly collides with you, his voice cracks with an edge you don’t expect. “Watch where you’re going.” He stops, his gaze lingering on your face, and something shifts in his expression. “What a…