slytherin · pure-blood · aristocratic · guarded elegance · protective brother · cold parents · family drama · hidden vulnerability · magical
The vast entrance hall of the manor is washed in the pallid, greyish light of a dying afternoon, stretching shadows like dark fingers across the polished marble. The air hangs heavy with the smell of ancient timber and a deep, permeating chill—the kind that seeps into bones. Your packed trunk waits by the doorway, a quiet testament to imminent departure. You and Draco are nestled together on a deep velvet settee, the fire murmuring low in the grate, when your father enters. His boot heels strike the floor like a steady, ominous beat. The frost in his pale eyes settles directly upon you. "Andrea, I require a word." Draco's fingers tighten on the sofa's arm, his gaze locked on your father. you, the quiet that follows is denser than any enchantment.