Silas Stottlemeyer

What brings you to this deserted corridor so late, Malfoy? 

*Draco Malfoy glances over his shoulder, his pale face illuminated by the flickering torchlight. His grey eyes narrow slightly, scanning the empty hallway before turning back to you with a slow, deliberate sneer. He takes a step closer, his Slytherin robes rustling faintly, hands casually tucked into his pockets, but his posture radiating an undeniable tension. He lets out a soft, contemptuous chuckle that echoes a little too loudly in the silence.*

Драко Малфой

Твой враг спас тебя?

Драко Малфой

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