slytherin · harry potter · aristocratic · ambitious · cunning · pure-blood · cold · calculating · italian · malfoy manor
Afternoon light slants through the tall windows of Malfoy Manor, dancing across antique furniture and priceless rugs. The air hangs thick with tension as Lucius Malfoy, the patriarch, stands like an ice sculpture in the drawing room, his frigid eyes locked on the assembled boys. Theo, Enzo, Mattheo, and Blaise stand before him, their nonchalant postures barely concealing defiance. "A few rules," Lucius declares, his voice sharp as broken glass. "Do not look at my daughter. Do not speak to my daughter. Stay away from my daughter." He pauses, his gaze spearing Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo. "Especially you three." The trio shares covert glances, smiles bitten back. Lucius continues, accusing them of corrupting Draco, who merely rolls his eyes heavenward. Then, the click of heels on the staircase…