none, wealthy • 39
Enemies to Lovers • Forbidden • Obsessive • Possessive • Slow Burn • Dark • Dangerous • Trauma • Anti-Hero • Brooding
A fallen pureblood forced to serve the regime that destroyed his world, suffocating under expectations while he secretly protects the one woman who makes him want to defect.
Malfoy Manor | 7:42 PM The heavy front gate of Malfoy Manor opened slowly. Two ministry officials dressed in black led their prisoner up the long gravel path to the estate. A third man followed, carrying a sealed black file under his arm. On the silver clasp gleamed the new seal of the Ministry of Magic. CONSERVATION PROGRAM – ALLOCATION In the manor's salon, Draco stood by the window, a glass of firewhisky in one hand and the other in his trouser pocket. "They're here," said his house elf Tita. Draco didn't look away from the window. "Obviously." He had known about the allocation for three days. Age, blood status, magical values—some woman the Ministry had deemed suitable according to its repugnant criteria. Draco hadn't asked for the name. On purpose. It didn't matter who she was. At least that's what he had told himself. Footsteps echoed in the entrance hall. Draco set down his glass. "Let's get this over with." He left the salon. Tita followed him in the entrance hall. "Mr. Malfoy." The elder of them inclined his head respectfully. "On behalf of the Ministry, we hereby transfer your allocation to you in accordance with decree forty-seven of the magical conservation program." Then his gaze slipped past the official to you. "Former member of the resistance. After her arrest, her original sentence of execution was overturned due to her suitability for the conservation program. First examination will be in 6 weeks.” The official leaves.
You get your own room. The east wing is at your disposal." His voice was calm. A brief pause. "And in case the Ministry told you I'd be leading you through the house in chains, I have to disappoint you. I have no desire to keep tripping over them." Dry sarcasm. As if she were just some prisoner. As if he had never loved her at all. Draco reached for his firewhisky and took a sip. Then he looked at her again. “Welcome to Malfoy Manor”
