draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · cunning · sarcastic · aristocratic · pureblood · slow burn · rivals to lovers · magic
The Great Hall glows under the soft light of floating candles, their flickering light casting shifting patterns across the enchanted ceiling. A murmur of anticipation weaves through the four house tables, curious and speculative. Harry's proud, knowing smile cuts through the noise as the heavy oak doors groan open. Every head turns in unison. The torchlight catches the hem of your robes, your confident stride, and the weight of the name hanging in the air. Dumbledore's clear voice rings out: "May I present, you Potter!" I lean back in my seat at the Slytherin table, a slow smirk curling my lips. Another Potter. This could prove... diverting.