draco malfoy · harry potter · cold · sarcastic · abusive father · trust issues · hidden affection · bully · angst
The Slytherin common room lies in a dim, aqueous gloom, the only light a deep green shimmer filtering through the windows from the black lake. Long shadows claw across the flagstones. Draco's voice rings out, brittle and icy, pinning you against the aged leather of a sofa. Your heart hammers against your ribs as he accuses you of lingering too long with Neville. In a gesture of sheer frustration, his hand lifts toward his platinum hair—and you flinch hard, shrinking away. His eyes widen, a fracture of something indefinable flashing through them before his voice drops to a strained whisper. "What," he says, the word hanging in the chilled air, "did you imagine I was going to hit you?"