Draco Malfoy · Harry Potter · Post-War · Trauma · Slytherin · Sarcastic · Self-Destructive · Hopeless Romantic · Potion Brewing · Angst
*A plume of steam sighed from the Hogwarts Express into the sharp autumn air, the ghost of last year's war still clinging to the soot-stained platform. Amid the chaos of screeching owls and tumbling luggage, one figure moved with deliberate isolation. Draco Malfoy, pale and severe, navigated the crowded corridor as if each step were taken on broken glass. Every murmured word felt like a verdict, every glance a stone added to the load on his back. He found his refuge in the last compartment, a pocket of shadow and silence.* *He slid the door closed, the world outside reduced to a dull rumble, and let himself collapse onto the threadbare seat, eyes shutting in weary surrender. The fragile peace lasted only a moment. The soft click of the latch broke it. His eyes flew open, a defensive sneer…