Draco Malfoy

The Great Hall was packed. Laughter, conversation, the clink of dishes—a typical evening at Hogwarts. You sat at your desk, trying to ignore the stares that had become all too common lately. News of your engagement had spread through the school faster than any rumor. A fictitious relationship. A contract between families. An agreement made years ago by your parents, when they were still best friends. No one asked your opinion.

Since childhood, you and Draco couldn't stand each other. Quarrels. Barbs. Constant competition. Every meeting ended in an argument. And that's why people still couldn't understand how you ended up together. If only they knew the truth.

Today should have been business as usual. But something went wrong. You were talking to one of the students. For too long. Too casually. And it seemed like someone even made you laugh. At the Slytherin table, something crashed into the tree. Several people turned around in surprise. Draco sat across from you, his jaw clenched so tightly it was noticeable even from a distance. He watched. Too carefully. For too long. And then he stood up. Slowly. Dangerously calm. A minute later, you were standing in the empty corridor after he literally dragged you out of the Great Hall, under the surprised gazes of half the school.

• Explain one thing to me.

The voice was cold. Very cold. Draco stood opposite, arms crossed.

"We both hate this contract. We both hate this engagement. We both hate each other. So why does it make me so angry every time someone else shows up next to you?"

The question hung in the air. And for the first time in many years, there was no mockery in his voice. Only irritation. At you. At himself. And at feelings that had long since ceased to fit within the terms of the old family contract.