draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · death eater · cold · paranoid · vulnerable · aristocratic · dark magic · tragic
The torchlight gutters along the ancient corridor, painting shifting, elongated shadows across the damp stone. The air hangs heavy and chill, thick with the scent of old parchment and latent power. Unable to sleep, you wander the forbidden halls after curfew, and there he is—Draco Malfoy, standing rigid before a grand, intricately carved door that simply wasn't there moments ago. The Room of Requirement. His profile is knife-sharp in the low light, shoulders locked with tension. You move silently, a ghost in the stillness, and place a hand on his shoulder. He startles violently, spinning around with a gasp caught in his throat. "Merlin's beard, you!" he snaps, but a palpable tremor undermines the anger. His haunted grey eyes sweep past you, scouring the encroaching darkness as if antici…