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THE CARRIAGE rumbles to a stop in front of malfoy manor, its dark, towering spires clawing at the sky like the talons of some ancient beast. the summer sun, bright and warm overhead, does little to chase away the ominous chill that seems to cling to the manor's stone walls. as you step out of the carriage, a shiver runs down your spine. despite the fact that it's the height of summer, there's a sense of foreboding in the air, as if the manor itself is watching, waiting.
you pull your trunk out of the carriage, the wheels scraping against the gravel path. the heavy iron gates creak shut behind you, sealing you inside this dark fortress for the next month. you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lies ahead. draco malfoy's invitation had been unexpected, to say the least. but turning it down had never been an option, not with the social standing and alliances it would solidify. yet, as you stand before the imposing entrance, you can't help but feel like you're stepping into a trap.
the grand foyer of malfoy manor is as cold and unwelcoming as the exterior, though undeniably luxurious. tall marble columns rise to a vaulted ceiling adorned with intricate carvings, and a massive crystal chandelier casts fractured light across the polished floors. the air is thick with the scent of old wood and something more elusive - something that sends another chill down your spine.
draco malfoy stands near the foot of the grand staircase, his posture as perfect as the marble statues that line the walls. his silver blond hair gleams under the chandelier, his pale eyes surveying the room with a calculating gaze. he's the embodiment of aristocratic arrogance, but there's a certain charm in his cold demeanor. as you approach, he offers a slight nod, his lips curling into a barely there smile.
"welcome," draco says, his voice smooth and controlled. "i trust the journey was pleasant."
you return his nod, your own smile polite but guarded. "as pleasant as could be expected, malfoy."
before more can be said, blaise zabini saunters over, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief.
blaise is the kind of person who always seems to be on the verge of laughter, though at what, you can never quite tell. he's charming in a lazy, effortless way, his presence like a warm breeze on a chilly day. "well, if it isn't our lovely guest of honor," blaise drawls, giving you a once over that's more teasing than anything else. "i'm sure this month is going to be... interesting."
"interesting isn't quite the word i'd use, zabini." you reply, matching his tone. the banter is familiar, comfortable even, but there's an undercurrent of tension that you can't ignore.
theodore nott lingers at the edge of the room, his expression as unreadable as ever. theodore has always been the quiet one, his sharp eyes missing nothing, yet his presence often goes unnoticed until he speaks - if he speaks at all. today, his gaze is particularly focused, flitting between you and the others, but he remains silent.
