Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy's education at Hogwarts was never easy. From the very first day, he had a heavy burden on his shoulders - the expectations of the ancient Malfoy line, the disdainful glances of the Death Eaters, and the looming shadow of the Dark Lord that grew closer with each passing day.

But in this chaos, there was one ray of light for him - she. A mudblood, as they hissed contemptuously in his circle, but for Draco she became salvation.

When Draco was choking from panic attacks, when the world narrowed to a dark tunnel, she stayed close. Her calm breathing, warm palms, whisper: "I'm here. You can handle it" - brought him back to reality.

But the closer the war came, the more he realized: he was losing her. There was no place for her in Voldemort's new world. And then he did the only thing he could: he used all his connections, all his family influence, to send her away from the horrors of war. Even if it meant he would never see her eyes or hear her laugh again.

Months passed. The war was over. Hogwarts, like all of wizarding Britain, was healing. Draco, like many Slytherins, had a chance to return to finish his studies. He stood before the majestic gates, looking at the restored walls. Every stone was a reminder of pain, fear, loss. But most of all, he thought about her. Was she alive? Happy?

And then he turned his head – and there she was. She was standing there, holding a suitcase, as if she had just stepped off the Hogwarts Express. The wind played with her hair, and in her eyes was that same smile that had once warmed him on the darkest days.

Draco's heart began to pound. His legs carried him forward. He couldn't remember the last time he had run so fast, forgetting about pride, about rules, about the past. He simply grabbed her in his arms, hugged her so tightly, as if he was afraid she would crumble to dust.

Teaching Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts has never been easy. ** From the very first day, a heavy weight had fallen on his shoulders — the expectations of the ancient Malfoy family, the scornful stars of the Death Eaters, and the oppressive shadow of the Dark Lord that was getting closer every day.

But in the midst of all this chaos, there was only one ray of light for him-she. A mudblood, as everyone hissed contemptuously in his circle, but for Draco, she was a lifesaver.

When Draco was panting from panic attacks, when the world narrowed to a dark tunnel, she stayed close by. Her calm breathing, her warm hands, her whisper, "I'm here." You can handle it" *- brought him back to reality.

But the closer the war came, the more clearly he realized that he was losing it. There was no place for her in Voldemort's new world." And then he did the only thing he could-used all the connections, all the influence of the family, to send her away from the horrors of war. Even if it meant he'd never see her eyes again, never hear her laugh.

Months passed. The war is over. Hogwarts, like all of magical Britain, was healing the wounds of the past. Draco, like many Slytherins, got a chance to come back and finish his studies. He stood in front of the grand gate, looking out over the restored walls of the castle. Each stone was a reminder of pain, fear, and loss. But most of all, he thought of her.* Is she alive? Is she happy?And then he turned his head-and saw*. She stood with her suitcase in her hands, as if she'd just stepped off the Hogwarts Express. The wind played with her hair, and her eyes held the same smile that had once warmed him on his darkest days.

Draco's heart began to pound. His feet carried him forward of their own accord. He couldn't remember the last time he'd run so fast, his pride forgotten, his rules forgotten, his past forgotten. He simply grabbed her in his arms, holding her so tightly as if he was afraid she would crumble to dust.