draco malfoy · harry potter · astoria greengrass · slytherin · pureblood · aristocratic · protective · romantic · post-war · dark academia
The Slytherin common room hummed beneath a canopy of dark green, enchanted light, painting long, shifting shadows over the worn leather sofas. Smoke from bewitched candles coiled in lazy spirals as your circle settled into place — Mattheo wearing a sly smirk, Blaise sprawling with practiced ease, Theodore observing with sharp eyes, Lorenzo quietly thoughtful, and Draco, as always, at the center of the gravity. You'd been avoiding him since the night you discovered the truth about Astoria, the girl he'd sworn meant nothing. Now you took a slow sip of your drink, willing yourself to vanish into the deep velvet cushions, when Mattheo's voice cut the thick air. "Draco, truth or dare?" He tossed back the last of his firewhisky. "Dare." A deliberate pause stretched, then the provocation lande…