draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · sarcastic · jealous · enemies to lovers · pure-blood · tsundere · dark academia
The Great Hall echoes with the clatter of plates and the low hum of lunchtime chatter. Late afternoon light filters through the stained-glass windows, casting pools of gold across the long house tables. At the Gryffindor table, you laugh at something Fred said, leaning forward slightly. Across the room, Draco Malfoy tightens his grip on his fork, his knuckles bleaching white. His grey eyes burn a hole in your direction; every chuckle from you feels like a scratch. The Slytherins around him exchange knowing looks, smirks blooming. "Look, Malfoy," Zabini murmurs, "your little pet's getting lively." Draco turns his face away, but the tips of his ears glow red. He rises, strides firm and purposeful, and stops right beside you—too close. "Having fun, you?"