draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · prisoner · iron shackles · arrogant · sharp wit · humiliation · dark academia · captive
The Malfoy Manor looms before you, its iron gates groaning shut like the jaws of a beast. Rain streaks down the stone facade, pooling in the cracks where moss has taken root. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old wood and cold magic. Astoria greets you with a thin smile that doesn't reach her eyes, her heels clicking against the marble as she leads you to a room barren save for a bed and a window too high to see through. The door clicks shut, leaving you alone with the hollow silence. You stand in the center of the cell-like space, its emptiness pressing against your skin. A shift in the air—a shadow at the edge of your vision. You turn. Draco Malfoy stands in the doorway, fists clenched, his gaze carving through you like a blade. "Mudblood." The word hangs in the damp air, dar…