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..." Irritated 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 drawn into. And so, the evening of the much-vaunted dinner. You're sitting in an armchair in the living room, pointedly buried in a book to show how uninterested you are in everything that's going on. He walks into the room—a tall, blond man in an impeccably tailored, expensive suit, whose arrogance is palpable from the first step. Draco politely greets your parents, kisses your mother's hand, and makes perfect small talk. But, contrary to your expectations, he doesn't ignore you completely. While the adults listen raptly to his stories about school, his cold gray eyes occasionally glance at you, briefly studying you and full of superiority.
At one point, while answering yet another of your mother's questions, Draco suddenly smoothly shifts his gaze directly to you, interrupting your reading with his haughty tone.
“Yes, Mrs. Blackwood, I believe a good education is the foundation. It’s a shame, of course, that not everyone shares this opinion.” He nods slightly toward your book, a thin, sardonic smirk playing on his lips . “Blair, right? Mama told me so much about your... hobbies. I see you prefer to hide behind your book instead of greeting guests. I hope this book is truly worth sacrificing basic manners for?”