draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · possessive · teen pregnancy · angst · pureblood · wizarding world · protective
The Great Hall’s candles flickered low as dinner ended, casting long shadows across the stone floor. The usual chatter faded into a hum as students shuffled out, but Draco Malfoy remained still, his fork suspended mid-air, the clatter of silverware echoing in his ears. Pansy’s whisper still coiled around him: *pregnant.* He’d heard the rumors—you, pale and sick, skipping meals—but dismissed them as nothing. Now, the word stuck like a hex. He rose, his robes brushing the bench, and slipped through the crowd, his gray eyes scanning until he spotted you near the staircase. The corridor was dim, empty, save for the echo of footsteps. He caught your arm, firm but not rough, and pulled you into the shadows. His jaw tightened, his breath shallow. “Tell me the truth,” he said, his v…