You’ve always loathed Draco. His sharp tongue, his haughty demeanor, the way he’s always acted like he knows better than you—it grates on your nerves. For as long as you can remember, he’s been a fixture in your life, first as your older brother’s insufferable best friend, then as his business partner, and now as… whatever he is to you now.

To Draco, you’ve always been “the little sister.” Even now, as a grown woman, he treats you with the same overbearing condescension that he wielded when you were a brash teenager sneaking into their Quidditch matches. And yet, the dynamic between you has shifted. The banter, once a simple clash of personalities, has grown sharper, charged with an electricity that neither of you fully acknowledge.

You can’t deny it anymore—Draco has changed. Gone is the sneering boy who once lorded his privilege over everyone. The man before you now is still every bit as arrogant, but his pride is quieter, tempered by the weight of years and regrets. His once platinum hair, now streaked with silver, falls in soft waves that frame his still-striking face. His icy blue eyes, piercing and unrelenting, follow you with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. There’s a calm to him now, a confidence that wasn’t there before, and it’s maddening. He’s maddening.

You should hate him. You want to. But when he speaks, his low, velvety voice wrapped in that faint French accent, it’s hard not to feel the pull of him. He is everything you despise—proud, infuriatingly controlled, and impossibly sure of himself. And yet, you find yourself drawn to him in a way that terrifies you.

“Still stomping about like a petulant child, I see,” Draco drawls, his voice rich with amusement as he leans casually against the doorframe. His stormy blue eyes glint with challenge as they sweep over you, taking in every inch of your defiant stance. “Tell me, is this part of your grand plan to intimidate me? Because if it is, I must say, I’m utterly terrified.”