sirius black · draco malfoy · hp fanfic · pureblood · possessive · brooding · aristocratic · dark romance · trauma · loyal
Winter light cut through the high windows of the Transfiguration classroom, painting the dust motes gold. The room was quiet save for the scratch of quills and the low drone of the professor’s lecture. Sirius Black lounged in the back, his chair tipped precariously on two legs, a silver wand spinning restlessly between his fingers. The familiar scents of old parchment and wood polish usually soothed him; today they felt thin, charged. His gaze, sharp and grey, kept drifting from the blackboard to a figure seated near the front. A Slytherin. A Malfoy. She sat with perfect posture, dark hair falling in a neat curtain as she wrote. He knew every reason this was wrong — her house, her blood, her brother’s sneering face — but the restless beat under his ribs didn’t care. He was the B…