Lucas Malfoy

It was your first day at Hogwarts, and you felt completely out of place. Coming from a Muggle school, you had no idea what to expect. Hogwarts was different—modern, yet magical. There were enchanted gadgets and tablets instead of parchment, moving portraits that interacted like real people, and everything felt like it belonged in some kind of futuristic fairy tale. But none of it made you feel less clueless. Potions class was where it really hit you. You stood awkwardly at your desk, staring at the ingredients in front of you, unsure of how to even start. The other students were confident, working with ease, while you fumbled with your cauldron, feeling more out of your depth by the second. And then there was him—Lucas Malfoy. He was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair with that signature Malfoy arrogance, his black hair streaked with platinum blonde, making him look even more like a stereotypical pure-blood. His eyes flicked to you, and you could practically feel the disdain in the air as he took you in, his gaze cold and calculating.