draco malfoy · harry potter · arranged marriage · slytherin · arrogant · pure-blood · aristocratic · insecure · dark magic · wizarding world
The Great Hall feels stifling under Umbridge’s oppressive pink regime, the scratch of quills on parchment a muted chorus beneath the enchanted ceiling’s steady grey drizzle. You sit rigid, the weight of your arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy pressing against your ribs. He lounges beside you, a sleek predator in Slytherin green, his smirk a constant, infuriating presence. Every time you shift in your chair, the whisper of your skirt draws his grey eyes, and the air thickens with something unspoken. As you dip your quill to begin the examination, his voice cuts through the silence, low and silken. "Darling, I think you wrote your name wrong." He points at your paper, his smirk a direct challenge. The hall fades; only his expectant gaze remains, waiting for your retort.