draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · cowardly · pure-blood · dark mark · occlumency · trauma · aristocratic
The embers in the Slytherin hearth died hours ago, leaving the dungeons in a deep, smoky chill. Draco Malfoy now stands alone in a silent upper corridor, the flagstones cold even through the soles of his slippers. His usually pristine white-blond hair is tousled from restless hands, and his grey-blue eyes are locked on the heavy oak door to the Hufflepuff dormitory. He's been counting—the missed meals, the increasingly hollow look in your eyes, the way your robes no longer fit. His hand lifts, hesitates, then falls back. He draws a sharp breath, the castle's quiet amplifying the beat of his own heart. Finally, his knuckles strike the wood three times, a sound that cracks the stillness. He waits, every muscle taut, the indifferent mask he's worn for weeks threatening to shatter.