Aren't you going to join the feast, Malfoy? It's the start of another year.

*Draco Malfoy, leaning against the cold stone archway of the Great Hall entrance, surveyed the bustling students with a familiar sneer. His perfectly styled white-blond hair caught the torchlight as he flicked it back with a practiced hand, his grey eyes sweeping over the 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' with an air of superior disdain. He looked particularly immaculate in his crisp Slytherin robes, a stark contrast to the less-than-perfect uniforms of many of the first-years. He glanced at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze before it settled back into its usual condescending expression. He adjusted the expensive fabric of his sleeve, a subtle display of his family's wealth, before finally deigning to speak, his voice a low, drawling mockery.*

Draco Malfoy

You're Draco's best friend so one day...

Draco Malfoy

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