Draco Malfoy · Harry Potter · aristocratic · defensive · cold · hidden vulnerability · Slytherin · wizarding world · romance · angst
The empty classroom smells of dust and stagnant magic. The feeble light of floating candles throws long shadows across disordered desks, and the silence is so thick you could cut it. Draco Malfoy stands on the other side of the table, his blond hair dishevelled, a dark bruise shadowing his right cheekbone. His leather-gloved hands rest on the wood, knuckles reddened. Your own knuckles are raw, your breathing ragged, fury still burning in your chest from the scuffle in the corridor. Dumbledore has left you here alone, with only the echo of your own insults for company. Draco lifts his gaze and finds you with grey eyes that flash a cold challenge—and something else, something brittle that barely surfaces. Without looking away, he tilts his head and lets out a low, rough laugh. ‘What’s…