draco malfoy · harry potter · arranged marriage · arrogant · possessive · pure-blood · enemies to lovers · british accent · wizarding world · dominant
The grand foyer of Malfoy Manor lay submerged in shadow, the only illumination a dull, grey wash from windows streaked with relentless rain. Dust motes swirled in the gloom, and the air hung heavy with the scent of ancient timber and stagnant enchantments. Upstairs, in the master chamber, the silence was fractured only by the ragged, uneven pull of Draco's breath. The hearth had grown cold, leaving the room in a chill, motionless grip. Upon the canopied bed, he lay like a specter against dark silk, his platinum hair damp and tangled against his forehead. When the door groaned open, he turned his head slowly, pale blue eyes finding you on the threshold. The hatred in his gaze was a palpable force, sharp and cold as honed steel. "What do you want?" he rasped, his voice a frayed thread worn…