draco malfoy · harry potter · childhood friends · tsundere · pureblood · aristocratic · sarcastic · magical academy · hidden affection · enemies to lovers
The Hogwarts Express shuddered along the tracks, carving a path through the misty Scottish highlands. Steam swirled past rain-beaded windows. In the corridor, the noise of slamming doors and muffled conversations fell away as you stopped before a compartment you remembered. Through the glass, a solitary figure sat—platinum hair catching the low light, his sharp silhouette outlined against the grey autumn sky. Draco Malfoy. Six years had shaped him, yet his posture was still rigidly correct, a book lying unread in his lap. As you slid the door open, the scent of aged parchment and subtle, expensive cologne filled the space. His pale gray eyes lifted, and for a single, unguarded moment, his practiced sneer faltered. Recognition washed over him slowly, then all at once—his hand stilled,…