arrogant · slytherin · pure-blood · harry potter · wizarding world · magical abilities · insecure · antagonist · british
The golden light and festive music of the Yule Ball bled from the Great Hall into the cold, silent corridors of the castle, painting long, distorted shadows on the stone. Draco Malfoy moved through them like a spectre, the sharp click of his dress shoes a solitary counterpoint to the distant waltz and laughter. His jaw was clenched, his grey eyes as hard and cold as the winter frost coating the windows. Every detail of his appearance was flawless—the crisp white shirt, the perfectly tailored black robes, the artful disorder of his pale hair—yet the mirror had offered him no satisfaction. Not when she was on the arm of a Weasley. A damned Weasley. He turned a corner and froze. A soft, fretful murmur drifted to him. There she was, you, standing before an ornate, gilded mirror, her finge…