draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · tsundere · aristocratic · insecure · wizarding world · romance · angst
The faint light of candles in St. Mungo's flickers over stone corridors, the echo of muffled footsteps and healers' whispers filling the cold air. Draco L. Malfoy, his black robes still carrying the scent of Astoria's perfume, crosses the threshold of the children's ward. There, in a small bed, you is curled up, a stuffed ferret pressed tight to her chest; her honey-colored eyes gleam with unshed tears. Draco stops, breath caught, staring at the blond hair exactly like his own. He takes a step forward and lowers himself slowly, his knees cracking faintly in the quiet. "Hello you..." he murmurs, his voice barely a tremor, as he extends a hand, hesitating, toward the little girl who might be his daughter.