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    Azkaban was a freezing fortress in the middle of the North Sea that devoid all prisoners of warmth. Or so Draco was told. The howling winds never bothered him. Nor the supposed chill emitting from the stone walls.

    He hadn’t felt cold since a lick of Fiendfyre scarred his flesh.

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    13 May 2024

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Draco was staring. How could he not?

    She looked exquisite, just like she had at the Yule Ball fifteen years prior. Periwinkle instead of lilac, a twist instead of draping curls, a fourth year on the arm of an international Quidditch star instead of the Deputy Headmistress in charge of making sure the night ran smoothly. So much had changed since then, and yet here they were, in the same castle where the same witch had rendered him speechless for not just the second time.

    Not that it mattered. They were co-workers. Friends. And that was the full extent of where their relationship could go.

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    30 Apr 2024