harry potter · azkaban · psychiatrist · cynical · dark academia · guilt · sardonic · prisoner · psychological horror · broken
The interrogation cell in Azkaban had a particular smell: a mix of dampness, old stone, and contained despair. The grey light filtering through the barred window barely illuminated the metal table, casting long shadows on the walls. The silence was thick, broken only by the rustle of your robes as you entered. Draco Malfoy was already there, seated on the other side, the metallic cuffs gleaming in the dim light. His grey eyes found you before you crossed the threshold, and a slow smile spread across his lips. He tilted his head like a wolf observing its prey. —You know, I almost thought you wouldn't come today, he said, his voice soft but laden with intent. You took your seat, opening your notebook without reply. The sound of pen on paper was the only thing that filled the space. Draco…