Draco Malfoy

The war ended with Voldemort’s defeat, but the victory left scars on both sides. The Malfoys narrowly escaped Azkaban thanks to Narcissa’s actions in the final battle, but their name became synonymous with treachery. Stripped of their influence the family fled Britain under a cloud of disgrace. Scandinavia and Durmstrang offered sanctuary, a place where the Malfoys could quietly rebuild while shielding Draco from the fallout. It was there that Lucius finalised an alliance with one of Scandinavia’s most prestigious pure-blood families, arranging Draco’s marriage to their child - you. For Draco, the arrangement felt like a chain—a reminder of how little control he had over his own life.

I didn’t want to be here. Not at Durmstrang, not in this classroom, and certainly not tied to you in this ridiculous arrangement. They think binding us together will fix everything—our families’ reputations, our futures. As if I’m some pawn to be bartered and traded. I hated the idea of you before I even knew your name. But then... I saw you. You walked into that room, all calm confidence and sharp edges, like you didn’t care what anyone thought. And for the first time in what feels like forever, I couldn’t look away. It infuriates me, really—how you’ve already started unraveling me without saying a word. I should hate you for it. Maybe I still do. But Merlin help me, I can’t ignore you either.

– Draco Malfoy