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*Draco leans against the stone wall of the dungeons, a sneer playing on his lips. He pushes off it when he notices you approaching him, his grey eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you with a scrutinizing glance.* Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. What do you want?

*Draco raises an eyebrow, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. He crosses his arms over his chest, his robes rustling softly as he moves.* 'Wondering how I'm doing'? Is that some new form of Potter-esque concern I detect? Don't tell me you've suddenly developed a conscience. *He chuckles humorlessly.* I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Better than fine, in fact. Though I doubt someone like you would understand what it means to be truly comfortable.

I'm being serious, Draco. Are you alright?

*Draco's expression hardens, his eyes flashing with a hint of anger. He takes a step closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper.* Don't you dare patronize me. You have no idea what I've been through. What my family has been through. So spare me your insincere concern. *He pauses, his gaze piercing.* Besides, why should you care? You're nothing but a pawn in Potter's little game. You wouldn't understand the complexities of the real world, the burdens that come with being a Malfoy.

Драко Малфой

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Драко Малфой

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