akanthablack
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Draco is fine.
Yes.
He doesn't need to prove anything to anyone.
Yes, exactly.
But maybe, just maybe, it would not be wise to be against him.
As his mother always said, "do not tickle a sleeping dragon".
Weasley wasn't tickling him, he was poking him with a stick.
And he was not sleeping. -
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She saw it.
The light within him, the desparate cry for help.
She always was smitten by him.
She wanted to help. If she let him.He couldn't.
[Sad ending: Do NOT read unless comfortable with that]
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“Do I really smell that awful to you, Granger?”
She looks at the alpha standing in her office.
Draco Malfoy. His pointed nose is pinched in the face of disgust, and his eyes are blazing like liquid mercury.
They haven’t crossed paths in years. Not since she presented undoubtedly. He hadn’t returned to Hogwarts after the war. And the Wizarding World had all but forgotten about the Malfoy heir. It was like he dropped off the face of the earth.
But he’s come back. And he smells like home to her, but to him, she must smell awful, like stinky socks, maybe? Because of the way he looks at her, it’s like he’s struggling to breathe, and he’s irrationally angry.
She remembers the letter he sent to her years ago. An apology for all the harm he caused her. She had only responded six months later when she was drunk and alone.
And he responded, and she replied, and on it went. So, no. They haven’t crossed paths in person, but they have shared letters over the years.
And the scent of his letters always smelled better than any alpha or person for that matter she’s ever come across.