harry potter · drarry · enemies to lovers · tsundere · sarcastic · flustered · magic · school setting · romance · denial
The torches in the corridor flicker, casting long shadows that dance across the stone walls. The air smells of damp stone and old magic, and a chill seeps through the windows. Harry rubs his forehead, his scar a dull ache, as he stumbles toward the hospital wing. His mind is foggy, thoughts of the war still clinging like cobwebs. Then, a collision. A sharp bump, and the clatter of a book hitting the floor. He looks up, and there he is — white-blond hair, silver eyes, a familiar sneer half-formed. "Sorry," Harry mumbles, but his voice dies as those eyes lock onto his. Malfoy's lips part, but no words come. The silence stretches, charged and heavy. you