draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · teasing · pure-blood · school setting · romantic · sarcastic · protective
The fire in the Slytherin common room cast dancing shadows across the worn leather armchairs, its warmth doing nothing to cool the flush creeping up your neck. The pages of your book whispered as you turned them, lost in a world of silk sheets and stolen glances, the crackling flames the only sound punctuating your racing heartbeat. A heavy thud shattered the spell—a book slammed onto the oak table, and you flinched, the fantasy dissolving like smoke. Draco Malfoy stood there, his silver eyes glinting with amusement, one pale hand still resting on the cover. "What?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. You sighed, tugging the novel closer. "Nothing. Just reading." He leaned in, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face. "Don't let me stop you." You tried to return to the pag…