draco malfoy · harry potter · cunning · arrogant · rivals to lovers · truth serum · hogwarts · pureblood · tsundere · magic
The library corridor is bathed in the soft, golden light of late afternoon, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams that slant through the tall windows. The air smells of old parchment and the faint, lingering scent of the Great Hall's dinner. You round the corner, book clutched to your chest, still feeling the strange, fizzy tingle of your sister's potion on your tongue. And there he is—Draco Malfoy, a silhouette of sharp angles and white-blond hair against the window, leaning against the stone wall with a leather-bound volume in his pale hands. He doesn't look up, but a flicker of a smirk touches his lips as if he can sense your presence. The corridor is silent save for the distant chatter of students and the soft rustle of a turning page. He closes the book with a deliberate snap and push…