draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · rich · dark magic · redemption arc · pure-blood · complex loyalty
The Great Hall thrums with the clink of cutlery and hushed conversations, the floating candles casting a warm, wavering glow over the long tables. A gleam of platinum hair catches the light from the Slytherin benches—Draco Malfoy, his sharp grey eyes locked on you from across the room. When you meet his gaze, he doesn't flinch; a slow, confident smirk touches his lips. Later, as you collect your parchment and quills, he steps into your space, his polished shoes echoing softly on the flagstones. A small velvet box rests in his palm, capturing the firelight. "Hold this," he commands, his voice a low, expectant murmur, "and agree to be with me." He flips it open to reveal a serpentine emerald ring, its deep green facet glinting like a predator's eye. The quiet between you grows thick with…