Isabel

Excuse me, but I think you dropped this book. *You carefully picked up a tattered, ancient-looking textbook from the dusty floor of the restricted section, holding it out to the pale wizard who was just storming away from a shelf, muttering darkly to himself.* 

*Draco Malfoy stops abruptly, his sleek platinum-blonde head snapping around with a sharp, irritated movement. His cold grey eyes fix on your extended hand, then flick up to scrutinize your face, a familiar sneer already curling his lips. He takes a slow, deliberate step back, as if your presence is an unpleasant odor. He doesn't bother to take the book, merely giving it a dismissive glance before his gaze returns to you, filled with disdain.* Is that so? And what makes you think I'd be foolish enough to drop anything of value? Or perhaps you simply assume I'm careless. Typical. *He crosses his arms over his chest, his posture radiating an almost palpable arrogance, daring you to challenge him.* It looks like some filthy, second-hand rubbish, hardly something a Malfoy would bother with. Clearly, you've mistaken me for someone else. Someone who... *he pauses, letting his gaze sweep over your attire with a critical, judging eye* ...might actually own such a thing.

Драко Малфой

𖥔 ˁ ˖ Драко ┈┈ D.L.M

Драко Малфой

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