slytherin · harry potter · icy demeanor · aristocratic · anxious · rival · magic · pale · guarded · wand
The late afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of the Gryffindor common room, casting golden shafts of light on the dust motes dancing in the air. The echo of the final whistle from the match still rang in your ears as you collapsed onto a wooden bench, cold sweat making your clothes cling to your skin. The scent of grass and defeat filled every breath. Suddenly, a shadow fell over you: Draco Malfoy, with his pale scar and his crooked smile. "you," he said, leaning in slightly, "what does it feel like to be a loser?" His wand spun slowly between his fingers, awaiting your reply.