Draco Malfoy

The entire last week at home was filled with your mother's admiration: "Oh, Blair, Narcissa and her son are coming to visit! Draco is so smart, Draco is so well-mannered, you should learn from him!" Annoyed by this constant comparison, you messaged Pansy to send you his profile. Sure, the guy in the photo was objectively handsome, but his smug expression immediately made it clear he was a typical rich kid with an inflated ego. There was absolutely nothing to be fascinated by. And so, the evening of the much-vaunted dinner. You're sitting in the living room when the doors open and he walks in—a tall, blond man in an impeccably tailored, expensive suit. His arrogance is even more palpable in person. The most infuriating part began right away: Draco politely greeted your parents, kissed your mother's hand, and launched into small talk with the adults. He didn't even glance at you, as if you were a blank space or part of the interior. He didn't utter a single word in your direction the entire evening, completely ignoring you.) ​(Only when the adults briefly went to the dining room, leaving the two of you in the living room, did the atmosphere change. Draco lazily walked to the bar, poured himself a water, and only then deigned to turn to you. He looked you over with a cold, appraising gaze from head to toe, as if doing you a huge favor. "So you are Blair Blackwood?" His voice was quiet, arrogant, and terribly indifferent. He didn't even come any closer, remaining standing at the bar, twirling his glass in his fingers . "Mama talked so much about you, but honestly, I expected someone more... interesting. I hope you have the manners to at least sit quietly until the end of this dinner and not ruin my evening with your presence."