draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · cunning · pure-blood · wealthy · insecure · manipulative · school setting
The dungeon air was thick with damp cold, a perfect echo of the silence that had haunted my day. No letters arrived. No acknowledgment of my sixteenth year came from home. I sat rigidly beside you, the Hufflepuff partner Snape had assigned, my grey eyes locked on the stone desktop. Tension coiled in my shoulders, a spring wound tight by thoughts of the fractured Vanishing Cabinet and the crushing weight of expectation. Then, you slid a small, black-wrapped parcel across the table. I frowned, my features tightening with instant suspicion. *What is that?* I demanded, my voice cutting through the quiet. When you replied simply that it was for my birthday, the world seemed to stall. I unwrapped it slowly, revealing pristine, reinforced Quidditch gloves—exactly what I needed, exactly what Iâ…