Draco Lucius Malfoy

Draco remembered many things.

She remembered all the times he appeared in front of her before she saw Astoria, adjusting his shirt collar or uniform while looking at himself in a mirror.

—Do I look okay? I don't want Astoria to see me looking bad.

And Luna always gave the same answer.

—Yes. Impeccable.

With a smile that never reached her eyes.

Then Draco smiled contentedly.

—Perfect. Thank you for helping me, Luna. I hope Astoria notices me today.

And she simply nodded as he readjusted his hair in front of the mirror.

As usual.

Like every day.

And although each of those conversations hurt her a little more than the last, she never stopped helping him.
Because if Draco was happy, he tried to convince himself that it was enough.

She also remembered all the times Luna had felt unwell.
Nausea.
Dizziness.
The constant feeling of having a knot in your stomach.

More than once she ended up bent over a sink while Draco held a glass of water beside her.

—Luna, this is not normal.

-I'm fine.

—No, you're not. You should go to the infirmary.

—I just ate something that didn't agree with me.

Always the same lie.
And Draco always seemed to believe her. Why didn't he ever know?

Because he never imagined that much of that pain had to do with him.
Just listening to him talk about Astoria.
Just by seeing him fall in love with someone else.
By pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
And yet, Luna continued to help him.
She remembered the afternoons when he would ask her what gifts a girl might like.

—Do you think she would like the flowers?

-Yeah.

—And the chocolates?

-Also.

—What else?

Then Luna would spend hours giving him ideas.
Small details.
Everything she would have liked to receive someday.
Just so Draco could give it to someone else.
And perhaps that was the saddest part of all.
Because he never meant to hurt her.
He was never cruel.
He never tried to hurt her.
I was simply in love with Astoria.

Draco had always been elegant.
But lately it was different.
She no longer seemed to dress up just for the sake of it or because she liked looking good. There was a much more obvious reason.
Astoria.
It was impossible not to notice.
Every morning she appeared impeccable, her uniform perfectly arranged, her blond hair meticulously styled, and that exquisite perfume that lasted all day. She always chose her best clothes for outings to Hogsmeade and devoted a great deal of time to details that she hadn't even considered before.
Everything was for her.
The perfume.
The clothes.
The smiles.
Attempts to get his attention.
All.
And I knew it.

Perhaps that's why it hurt so much to see him.

Because while he was trying hard to please Astoria, I was just watching him from afar.
Like an idiot.
Looking at him as if he were the most beautiful person in existence.
Watching how he adjusted his hair before seeing her. How he straightened his back when she appeared nearby. How he tried to appear calmer when he was actually nervous.
And he never noticed.
Because while I was looking at him...

He was looking at her.

Always her.

It was a strange feeling.
As if we were trapped in an endless chain.
Draco watching Astoria.

Me watching Draco.

And nobody was looking at the person in front of them.
Sometimes I wondered if I would ever look up and see myself the same way I saw Astoria.
But then she remembered the way he pronounced her name, the way he smiled when he spoke of her, and the excitement that appeared in his eyes every time he saw her.
And I understood the answer.
No.
I probably never would.

Because while I saw it as the most beautiful thing in the world.

He kept seeing someone else.

Draco was the kind of person who paid attention to you and, at the same time, didn't.
He listened when I spoke, remembered things about me, and was there when I needed him. But there were times when I felt I would never have his attention.
Because he always ended up talking about Astoria.
Always.
It didn't matter what the conversation was about. I'd somehow find a way to bring her up. If we were talking about classes, she'd come up. If we were talking about Quidditch, she'd come up. If we were talking about anything, I'd end up talking about her.
And I hated it.
I hated hearing him describe her smile, how intelligent she was, or how beautiful she looked.
Because every time I said his name, I felt something unpleasant inside me.
And the worst part was that Astoria wasn't even in love with him.
She liked another boy.
Even so, Draco still saw her as if she were the most incredible person in the world.
And I couldn't help but wonder:
What did she have that I didn't?
My blood boiled every time he smiled as she walked by. Every time he looked for her. Every time he seemed to forget everything when she appeared.
But he never said anything.
Because he was my friend.
And the friends supported each other.
Even if it hurt.
I tried my best to hide it, but every time I talked about Astoria I felt sick. I felt dizzy, my stomach clenched, and I had a strong urge to disappear.
Then he would invent any excuse.

—I think the food didn't agree with me.

—I'm a little tired.

-My head hurts.
Lies.
All lies.
The reality was simple.
I was in love with him.
And he was in love with her. Draco loved me, I knew it.
But he loved me like a friend.
And that changed everything.
Because even if I showed up in the prettiest dress or tried to get his attention, he would still be looking at Astoria.
I would still choose her.
That's how he was.
When he loved someone, he loved them with all his heart.
And perhaps that's why she never noticed what she felt for him.
He was too focused on someone else.
He was never good at expressing his feelings