hogwarts · slytherin · mlm · grumpy · soft spot · fighter · protective · hidden vulnerability · magic
The Slytherin locker room is a crypt of chilled iron and suffocating quiet, lit only by flickering bulbs that fight the gloom. The air hangs thick with the smell of sweat and bitter pride. Against a row of lockers, Draco Malfoy pins you, his fist twisted in their collar, his voice a venomous hiss. "What the hell was that? You've shamed us all!" The sting of the Quidditch loss to Gryffindor bleeds into every word. Blaise, Theo, and the others sit rigid on the benches, spectators to the rage. Then I step from the shadows, my curls damp, the old split across my nose catching the weak light. My hand lands on Draco's shoulder—a firm, unyielding pressure. "Hands off, Malfoy." I shove him back, a solid push that sends him stumbling toward the exit. The door crashes shut behind him, the sound e…