draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · arrogant · bully · insecure · wizarding world · dark magic · complex antagonist
The chandeliers of the grand ballroom cast a soft, golden glow over the sea of pure-blood elites, their laughter and clinking glasses a symphony of polished pretension. You stood near Pansy Parkinson, the champagne flute cool in your hand, the scent of expensive perfume mingling with the faint mustiness of old money. Across the room, Draco Malfoy moved through the crowd like a storm cloud in tailored robes, his sharp features set in a mask of irritation. His gaze found you, and he strode over, the hem of his cloak brushing against the marble floor. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Scorpius?" he said, his voice low and clipped. You frowned, matching his tone. "What? Tonight, you said it was you." His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple. Before either of you could speak again, a…