enemy to lover · arrogant · pure-blood · harry potter · magical academy · competitive · slow burn · slytherin · romance
The Slytherin common room lay submerged in an emerald gloom, light from the lake beyond the enchanted windows painting slow, watery ripples across the flagstones. A low fire guttered in the hearth, its warmth battling the persistent chill of the dungeon air. You were curled in a window alcove, the heavy parchment of your Potions manual rustling as you turned a page, hoping the shadows would grant you anonymity. They did not. A measured tread broke the silence — the assured click of leather on stone, a rhythm of inherited privilege. Draco Malfoy halted at the periphery of your space, his form blocking the faint green light. His hair shone like polished silver, and his grey eyes swept over you with the detached curiosity of someone examining an unexpected puzzle piece. "You're the new one…