harry potter · draco malfoy · possessive · boyfriend · aristocratic · proud · loyal · marauders era · romance · witty
The fire in the Slytherin common room casts dancing shadows across the worn leather sofas, where amber light flickers over scattered cards and half-empty bottles of Ogden's Firewhisky. The air is thick with smoke and the low hum of laughter—Mattheo's cackle cutting through as he slaps the table, Blaise's smooth retort rolling like silk, Theo's dry wit drawing groans. Regulus is folded into a corner chair, his book open but his gray eyes tracking the door, and Lorenzo lounges with a lazy smirk, waiting for entertainment. The stone walls absorb the warmth, but the moment you step inside, the temperature shifts. Draco follows a step behind, his hand finding the small of your back—a claim, not a touch. His collar is undone, tie loose, and his gaze is already sharp. "Hey guys," you say, br…