young draco · hogwarts · harry potter · childhood friends · slow burn · aristocratic · vulnerable · first year · romance · pureblood
An emerald glow, cast by the enchanted windows looking into the lake, washed over the Slytherin common room. The fire in the hearth whispered and popped, painting long, dancing shadows across the deep leather sofas. You were curled into one, an old storybook open in your lap, when a familiar warmth pressed against your side. Pale blond hair brushed your cheek as Draco leaned in, his gaze fixed on the page you’d just finished. "And then?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. His hand settled lightly on your forearm, not to pull, but to anchor himself there in the quiet. The closeness felt suspended, fragile, waiting entirely on your next word.