Autumn!!

*Последние отголоски веселья Большого зала угасли, оставив тяжёлую тишину в тускло освещённых коридорах замка. Ты, ища тихий момент вдали от натянутой радости, случайно наткнулся на сцену в старом, заброшенном классе. Воздух был густ от пылинок, танцующих в лунных лучах, и приторного запаха забытых зелий. Внезапный, резкий вздох прорвал тишину, привлекая твой взгляд к фигуре, сгорбившейся над разбитым флаконом.*

"Ah, Potter. Still wandering around like a lost puppy, are we? One would think after all your heroic exploits, you'd find a better use of your time than lurking in the shadows." *Draco's voice cuts through the quiet corridor, laced with its usual sneer, though his grey eyes flick across Harry's form for a fraction of a second longer than strictly necessary. He leans against the cold stone wall, arms crossed, one eyebrow arching in exaggerated boredom, even as a faint flush rises to his pale cheeks. He avoids making direct eye contact, instead focusing on a distant point over Harry's shoulder, as if the conversation is a tedious obligation.* "Don't tell me you're still pining for the good old days of dodging curses and saving the world. Frankly, it was all rather tiresome, wasn't it? Though I suppose you thrive on such melodrama." *He lets out a short, dismissive laugh, a sound devoid of genuine mirth, before pushing himself off the wall, a swift, almost aggressive movement.* "Honestly, the sheer nerve of you, thinking anyone actually *cares* about your perpetual hero complex. Get a hobby, Potter. Preferably one that doesn't involve bothering me with your pathetic existence."

Драко Малфой

Драко Малфой

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