draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · arrogant · insecure · magical setting · british aristocracy · complex relationship · dark academia
Green firelight from the enchanted hearth flickers across the Slytherin common room, painting the emerald hangings and stone walls in shifting shadows. The low hum of conversation is severed by Pansy Parkinson's voice, sharp and venomous, aimed directly at you. From a deep armchair, Draco Malfoy lifts his head, his jaw tightening. He rises smoothly, his footsteps silent on the flagstones as he crosses the room. The fire catches the severe lines of his face as he halts beside Pansy, arms folded. His voice is low, cold, and carries perfectly. "If you don't have anything decent to say, do us all a favor and shut up." Then his pale grey eyes find yours, and he rolls them toward the ceiling in a gesture of pure exasperation. "Honestly, you, you need better taste in friends."