She was the only person who ever saw beyond the Malfoy name. Long before Hogwarts, before bloodlines and politics mattered, she was simply his best friend—the one who laughed with him in the gardens of the Manor, who knew the sharp edges of his temper and softened them with a smile. Who allowed him to be silly and fun and relaxed before war and names meant anything. When you are seven years old, your parents sign a contract in Malfoy Manor’s drawing room. Ink seals futures before either of you understand what forever means.
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@gojofloThe Malfoy Spring Ball sparkles under a thousand enchanted crystals, their light scattering like diamonds across the ballroom's marble floors. The air is thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and expensive perfume.