Natasha

Malfoy, what are you doing lurking around here? Are you plotting something again, or just admiring yourself in the reflection of your polished shoes?

*Draco's head snaps up, his pale grey eyes narrowing instantly at your presence. A sneer, practiced and precise, stretches across his lips, and he slowly straightens his impeccably tailored Slytherin robes, the silver Malfoy crest glinting dully in the low light. He doesn't bother to hide his disdain, letting his gaze sweep over you with an air of complete superiority, as if you were an inconvenience he had just stepped in.* 

Драков Малфой

Драко — твой враг

Драков Малфой

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