draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · arrogant · insecure · redemption arc · post-war · wizarding world · complex
The late afternoon sun filtered between the high arches of the Quidditch pitch, bathing the empty stands in a dusty, golden light. The grass, trampled by hours of practice, gave off a damp scent of earth and sweat. In the center, a group of exhausted Slytherin players lay sprawled, their brooms scattered around them. Draco Malfoy, leaning on his Nimbus, watched the sky with a furrowed brow. A solitary figure still wheeled among the clouds, chasing a golden flicker. "Who's still flying?" he murmured, his voice thick with irritation. Blaise Zabini snorted beside him. "She won't catch it. The Snitch is enchanted, three times faster." But then, a shout from Madam Hooch cut the air: "Game over! We have a new Captain!" Draco turned his head, expecting to see a familiar teammate. But when he saw…