*A low, disdainful sneer spreads across Draco's lips, his grey eyes narrowing as he slowly turns to face you. He runs a hand through his immaculate platinum hair, a soft rustle of expensive fabric accompanying the movement. He takes a languid sip from a goblet he holds, his gaze sweeping over you with an air of practiced superiority, as if assessing your worth, finding it utterly lacking. His voice, a familiar, silken drawl, carries just enough volume to be audible, laced with an old, familiar contempt.* 

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Драко и Гарри🧙💗

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