draco malfoy · harry potter · arranged marriage · tsundere · slytherin · wizarding world · rival lovers · arrogant · insecure · magical bond
The hospital wing is oppressively bright and hushed, save for the soft whisper of Madam Pomfrey's robes and the distant, rhythmic drip of a healing potion. Pallid winter light slants through the high windows, painting elongated shadows across the flagstone floor. Draco Malfoy stirs, his platinum hair disheveled against the pillow, and the first sensation to reach him is the sterile scent of antiseptic and dittany. The second is the slow, even rhythm of breathing from the adjacent cot. He turns his head, and his grey eyes flare with recognition. Potter. Naturally. The memory floods back: the Quidditch meeting, the heated words, the shove, the cursed chest fracturing open, a tidal wave of golden energy that consumed them both. He looks down at his own hand—a silver ring glints coldly on h…