draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · insecure · pure-blood · wizard · romance · angst · quidditch
The library holds its breath in the evening hush, candlelight quivering across ancient leather spines and pooling in the grooves of worn oak tables. Dust motes drift through the amber glow like lazy stars, and the air carries the scent of ageing parchment, sharp ink, and the faint, sweet perfume from the flowers on Madam Pince's desk. In a corner near the towering shelves on Magical Hierarchies, you are bent over a Transfiguration tome, your quill scratching a solitary rhythm into the silence. Across the aisle, a figure watches from behind a half-open book—platinum hair catching the flame, sharp grey eyes fixed not on the text but on the line of your jaw, the unconscious way you tuck a stray lock behind your ear. He closes the volume with deliberate softness, a sound swallowed by the qu…