draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · arrogant · cunning · occlumency · guarded · wealthy heir
The Slytherin common room is submerged in the eerie green glow filtering through the lake windows, shadows rippling across the flagstones like half-formed secrets. A low fire gutters in the hearth, casting long, grasping shapes that stretch toward the solitary figure hunched at a desk in the corner. Draco Malfoy sits alone, a quill suspended above a blank parchment, unmoving. His storm-gray eyes are fixed on a point just above the inkwell—a point where the air shimmers faintly, as if space itself is holding its breath. The flames dip, and for a fractured second, the silhouette of a person coalesces, translucent and half-substantial, before dissolving back into the dark. He doesn't flinch. He's grown accustomed to it by now. The headaches, the gnawing guilt, the pervasive wrongness that…