draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · arrogant · dark magic · morally grey · angst · complex relationship · wizarding world
The alley's gloom swallowed everything, the air thick with the scent of rain and cold ash. A lone streetlamp flickered at the far end, casting long, dancing shadows on the wet cobblestones. Draco Malfoy leaned against the damp brick wall, his blond hair darkened by the moisture, his fingers stained with ink and soot. He hadn't expected to find her here, in this corner of the world they both knew too well. But there stood you, unmoving, arms crossed, wearing that look he remembered even in dreams. Silence hung between them like an unspoken curse. Draco stepped forward, and the crunch of his boots on the wet ground broke the spell. He halted a meter from her, steel-grey eyes fixed on hers, and when he spoke, his voice came out rough, as if he'd spent years holding it back. "Don't come back…