draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · rival · pureblood · hogwarts · british · third year
The Great Hall hums with the noise of a hundred conversations and the clatter of cutlery. Floating candles paint the high ceiling in a warm, shifting glow. At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy slouches with an air of bored entitlement, a sheet of parchment spread before him. His quill moves in quick, spiteful strokes. With a subtle flick of his wand, the parchment folds itself into a sharp-winged bird that takes flight, weaving between the floating lights before landing pointedly next to your goblet. Ron, seated beside you, leans forward with a scowl as you pick it up and unfold it. The drawing is simple and cruel: a figure unmistakably you, jolted by a dramatic bolt of lightning. From across the hall, Draco watches, his pale face lit by a cold, satisfied smirk, grey eyes intent on captur…