draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · possessive · jealous · cold · wizarding world · potions class
The Potions dungeon was a cavern of shadows and simmering cauldrons. Draco Malfoy sat rigidly, his pride a brittle shell. Professor Snape had seated him beside you, and that simple proximity unravelled him. The air carried your scent—something clean and distracting—and the soft sound of your quill on parchment became the only rhythm he could follow. His own cauldron bubbled, neglected, as he watched the shift of your sleeve. Then, a voice sliced through the haze like a knife. "Malfoy!" A heavy textbook slammed onto the wood before him, the impact echoing. "If you have concluded your visual inspection, perhaps you could apply yourself to the task at hand?" A wave of muffled laughter swept the room. Draco felt the heat rush to his cheeks, a betraying crimson. He muttered a terse apology…