𝐫𝐢𝐞

Seeing Draco looking at someone with those eyes — eyes that had known every feature of your face and had seen you at your best and worst — how could he look at someone else like that now?

You kept your eyes forward, forcing yourself not to look at him. Not that he would care when he looked at Astoria with that subtle smirk, the one that used to be yours.

“Perhaps you know the answer,” Professor Snape said, turning to look at you. His voice sliced through the quiet classroom. “What’s the key difference between a Hex and a Curse?”

All eyes shifted to you, waiting.

“A Hex causes minor harmful effects and is often mischievous, while a Curse is designed for serious harm or control and is generally considered dark magic,” you answered, your tone cool and precise.

His lips curled, not exactly a smile but more like approval.

“Correct,” he said, turning away. “Five points to Slytherin.”

Just as class ended, and students began to head out, as if fate were toying with you, you saw Draco walking with Astoria in the hall. The two of them were close enough that their shoulders brushed.

“Brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant,” you muttered to yourself, a bitter laugh threatening to escape, your chest tightening with something sharp and unwelcome.

Draco passed some kind of book to her. “Don’t smudge the corners. That’s a limited edition,” he said.

“I’ll treat it better than your last relationship,” she teased, her eyes flicking to you for just a second.

A pang cut through your chest. They knew you were listening — or worse, they wanted you to be.

You tried to hide your face to escape the embarrassment of once being his — and the guilt of being the one who ended it.

Without a word, you turned and left the corridor, each step faster than the last until they were out of sight. You couldn’t stay there, not with him looking at her like that. The further you walked, the more your thoughts crowded your mind, loud and unwelcome.

You tried to calm your aching heart, to find comfort in the memories you once shared.

And yet, your mind kept circling back, lingering where it shouldn’t.

Did the moments you created together mean nothing to him now? How could he look so unaffected when you were falling apart?

The cold, dim atmosphere of the dorms welcomed you. You made your way to your bed, cocooning yourself in the blanket, nearly swallowed by its warmth. The silence is broken only by soft rustling — and then, the subtle presence of a familiar, expensive perfume drifts through the room.

“Alright, enough of this,” Pansy’s sharp, annoyed voice cut through the silence, though beneath it was concern.

She straightened you up. “Merlin, you look like someone ran you over with a Hippogriff.”

You groaned. “Not now, Parkinson.”

Pansy raised a brow. “Oh, please.” She gagged at the pile of tissues beside you. “You’re literally a pathetic pile of heartbreak while Malfoy plays snogging with Greengrass.”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure you haven’t, I don’t know, thrown yourself into the Black Lake.”

You scoffed.

“He’s doing it on purpose, you know. The book, the hallway, the stupid limited edition line. He wants a reaction.”

“Well, he’s not getting one.”

Pansy clicked her tongue. “He already has. You just gave it to him in silence.”

“Also, the Greengrass girl was loving every second. She’s always been good at pretending she’s innocent while twisting the knife,” Pansy continued.

You sat up, arms wrapped around your knees. “Well, what do you think I should do?”

“Hmm… you could always use a hex or two.”

“Pansy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” she teased, grinning. “Just don’t let him ruin you, your class, your entire day. Don’t let him ruin that beautiful face of yours, too.”

You chuckled. “Alright. Thanks a lot,” you said with a smile.

“I’ve got you. Always.”

The next morning came too quickly, though it carried a quiet sense of peace. You woke to warm sunlight spilling through your window and fresh air filling the room. Despite the lingering ache, you decided that no matter what attitude Malfoy showed, you would ignore it and keep living your life, doing your best to move on from him.

Your footsteps echoed softly against the stone, each one a reminder that the day had to start, whether you were ready or not.

By the time you reached the Great Hall, your stomach was already twisting, not from hunger, but from everything else. Still, you made your way to the Slytherin table, reached for the usual bland porridge, and added a generous swirl of honey.

“Didn’t know you’ve got a sweet tooth,” Pansy said, raising an eyebrow as she slid onto the bench beside you.

Your face warmed slightly. “A habit of mine,” you muttered, stirring the honey in.

More students headed into the Great hall, their chatter and footsteps filling the space. Familiar laughter echoed from around the corner. You braced yourself.

And then, your eyes met his, like the moment had slowed without warning. His robe was perfectly neat, his tie slightly loose — and for a second, you remembered how often you were the one fixing it. He walked beside Greengrass, his hand resting on her waist, like it belonged there.

“Hey,” Pansy said gently, her hand pressing against your back. “Don’t mind them. Keep eating. Remember what we talked about.”

You nodded, letting yourself breathe for a moment. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. They were not worth your time, and most importantly, there were plenty of things you still needed to work on rather than being held back by whatever this drama was all about.

And somehow, you did.

That whole week was pretty hectic; not only did you ace every test, but you also earned full marks on every assignment. You focused on working hard, determined to be better and to prove something to yourself. You gained the attention of your professors, their whispers filling the halls like a quiet applause — but so did someone who had sworn he would never look for you again, yet somehow couldn’t stop watching from afar.

Draco was watching. From the school grounds, across the library, and even from the corner of the common room.

He never spoke. Never approached.

But he looked.

And you hated that part of you still hoped he’d say something.

You’d almost forgotten about Friday nights patrol. Almost.

When you saw the list with your name beside his — Astronomy tower. Late shift. Draco Malfoy. — You swore your insides turned to knots. Head boy and Prefect. How ironic.

You arrived early.

The stars shimmered above, the cold night air kissed your skin, and the view below stole your breath. For a moment, you felt at peace—until footsteps echoed behind you, followed by the scent of some obnoxiously expensive perfume, one that was painfully recognizable.

“Well, if it isn’t the one who broke up with me.”

You turned slowly, arms folded across your chest. “What are you doing here?”

He raised a brow, stepping closer. “Patrolling. Head Boy duties. Or have you forgotten everything, like you forgot about us?”

There it was.

You scoffed. “Don’t turn this on me.”

“Someone has to,” he said bitterly. “You ended things. Not even explaining why you suddenly left me.”

Your voice dropped. “If only you’d looked at me. Just once.”

His mouth snapped shut.

You stepped closer, your words barely above a whisper. “I was tired, Draco. Tired of reaching out… only to find you with her instead.”

He didn’t speak.

He didn’t deny it.

“I missed you.” Your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes. “I always missed you. Even when I tried to convince myself I didn’t.”

You looked at him—truly looked—and it hurt. It hurt to see the boy you loved in front of you and know he wasn’t yours anymore. Maybe he never fully was.

“But maybe we were never meant to last. Maybe we’re just better on our own.”

The words left your mouth like a slow ache, heavy and irreversible.

Draco stepped forward, close enough that the scent of his cologne mixed with the night air, so familiar it almost broke you.

“I never stopped wanting you,” he said softly.

Your breath hitched, yet you didn’t move.

“I’ve been aching for you. Trying to find any excuse just to feel you again, to be near you, but—”

“But what, Draco?”

“But you left.” He whispered, taking a step closer to you.

“I did,” you replied, voice cracking. “Yet I never stopped loving you.”

That was all it took.

His lips were on yours, slow and searching. At first, hesitant — afraid you’d pull away — but you didn’t. It was raw, full of everything that had gone unsaid. A kiss soaked in guilt and something that still burned.

And then… you pulled away.

“I—this is wrong.” You turned away. “Maybe it’s better if we just end it.”

He didn’t argue back, not even a plea. “I’m sorry.”

Then he turned away, far from that tower, and far from you.

It then hit you. That tower had once been yours. The secret kisses, the late-night stargazing, the quiet laughter shared in the dark. It used to be ethereal — soft and timeless, like magic untouched by the world.

Now it held only silence.

And somehow, that silence spoke louder than anything he could’ve said.

It told the truth you couldn’t bring yourself to voice.

It said everything he wouldn’t.

Because when words slip away, silence speaks.

₊˚⊹ ⁀➴ m.list