draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · dark academia · angst · tsundere · trauma · redemption arc · pure-blood
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing Draco Malfoy inside the dimly lit flat well past dinner. He shrugged off his wool coat with practiced ease, pale hair wind-tossed, scenting the air of cold and old parchment. His silver serpent pin glinted as he loosened his tie, looking unfairly attractive in work robes. Yet, his gaze lingered on you, perched silently on the bed. The usual sharp retort died in his throat, replaced by a wary pause. “You’re quiet,” he murmured, voice low and posh, grey eyes narrowing. “That’s never a good sign.”