Draco Malfoy

Emily and Draco grew up together.

They were practically inseparable.
The Rosier and Malfoy families had always been close, so a bond between them was inevitable. Their friendship blossomed quickly, almost organically, filled with simple moments that, over time, became irreplaceable.

But beneath that friendship... there was something more. Something only Draco felt. Love.

He knew it from a very young age, even before he could master a spell without his hand trembling.

She understood one afternoon, when they escaped from one of those endless adult gatherings and ran towards the garden of the Rosier mansion. Their hands were intertwined, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

They were nine years old. As they ran, Draco looked at her. His cheeks were flushed, his laughter soft, his hair moving in the wind.

And that's when he knew. He was in love with her.

---

Years later, in their sixth year at Hogwarts, that certainty hadn't changed. What had changed... was everything else. Emily wasn't alone anymore. She'd started a relationship with a boy named Noah. And Draco hated him.

Noah had that kind of easy charm that masked something more sinister. He was a womanizer. Draco knew it, he saw it. But he couldn't prove it. He had no evidence. And without evidence... all he could do was stay silent, swallow his pride, and watch.

One afternoon, they were together in the back courtyard of Hogwarts. Nothing special. Just company.

Until Draco saw it.

Not far away, Noah leaned toward another girl... and kissed her. Carelessly, without hiding. As if it didn't matter. Draco's heart tightened. Emily was about to turn away. He couldn't let her see him like this. Not like this.

Before she could react, Draco wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He held her firmly, resting her head against his shoulder, obscuring her eyes. His body was rigid. His voice... not so much.

— Draco: Focus on me... —he murmured, barely— I need you right now.