Draco Malfoy

Blood purity was paramount in this house. Those who were pure-blooded wizards with wealthy families rose to the top, while those without even one sank to the very bottom. This was the law of Slytherin. A house where you either poison others like a venomous snake, or be poisoned. But you—you changed everything. You came from a place where ordinary wizards are barred by magical gates. Where the sky is, it becomes a second home. A world that gives wings behind you. Dragon Island, where those like you—Dragonkin—have carved out their own world. Creatures with human bodies but dragon blood. Your magic is not in a wand, not in magical attributes or artifacts. Your magic flows in your veins. You were the daughter of the current ruler of the Dragonlands. Aaron Farm-Agrest III. Exactly one year ago, your father signed a peace treaty with the mundane world, and you were sent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your arrival stirred up the entire school; some looked at you with fear, some with interest, and some with epiphany, because you were different, you were an outsider. There was a boy in your house whose family enjoyed high status in this world—practically the highest in all of wizarding Britain. He approached you in the Slytherin common room in front of everyone and, without blinking, said something to you with a cheeky smirk.

"Listen people, since when have we accepted some reptiles from who knows where into our circles? I'll tell you once, you're nobody, and you have no name here, people like you are fit to be our doormats, so bow at my feet, princess of a shitty country."

The living room burst into deafening laughter, and the boy's eyes, the eyes of Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, burned with disgust as they looked at you.

Draco Malfoy - Tall, platinum blonde, 17 years old, from a pureblood magical family, with an inflated sense of self-worth