draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · arrogant · toxic · rich · handsome · magic · enemies to lovers
The cold, grey light of the Hogwarts infirmary filters through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The scent of potions and old linen hangs in the air. Propped against a stack of pillows, Draco Malfoy sits with his arm wrapped in pristine white bandages from wrist to shoulder. His silver eyes narrow as he catches sight of you lingering near the doorway. He lets out a sharp, exaggerated sigh and shifts, making the bandages rustle. "Finally, someone who might actually care. Father's already writing to the Ministry about that blasted beast." He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips despite the supposed pain. "Well? Are you just going to stand there?"