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(Y/n)'s POV

Breakfast sat untouched in front of me, my fork barely skimming the food as I stared blankly at the plate. The truth loomed heavily in my thoughts: I wasn't his girlfriend, and he wasn't my boyfriend. He was free to do whatever he wanted, but still, we had terms. We agreed we wouldn't kiss anyone else while we were in our arrangement, and not only did he break that trust, he came and kissed me minutes after.

So not only did I feel betrayed, I felt disgusted.

I felt Draco's eyes on me and I could no longer stand it. The moment Pansy became absorbed in conversation with the others at the table, I took my chance and quietly slipped away.

As I entered the hallway, I quickened my steps, eager to reach the common room and retreat to my bed, where I could drown in my thoughts before he caught up with me—an outcome that felt inevitable. "Maxime!" His voice rang out behind me, sharper than I expected, as he closed the gap with surprising speed. He must have gotten up just moments after I did to be so close.

I pushed myself to walk even faster, my heart a whirlwind of pain and anxiety, a feeling that was anything but pleasant. Each footfall echoed in my ears, a reminder of the distance I was trying to create between us, both physically and emotionally.

"Would you just wait!" He was suddenly right beside me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around, but I quickly pulled away, the warmth of his touch now feeling like a brand against my skin. Panic flickered in his eyes, a stark contrast to the cool demeanor he often wore. "Please, let me explain."

I took a step back, shaking my head, my heart pounding in my chest. "There's nothing to explain, Draco. It's fine. You said it yourself, we're not together, so you can do whatever you want." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, a mix of defiance and sorrow.

With every step I took back, he moved closer, desperation etched on his face, his usually confident posture now crumbling under the weight of my rejection. "It's not what you think—"

"Oh, so you didn't kiss Pansy?" I interrupted, my voice filled with hurt and anger, each syllable laced with the sting of betrayal.

He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as if the very air had been knocked from his lungs. "I did, but—"

"What we had is over. It's finished." The finality of my words hung in the air between us. I could see the flicker of hope in his eyes dimming, replaced by a shadow of regret.

"(Y/n), please," he pleaded, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "I made a mistake. I didn't kiss her because I wanted to or because I like her. I was trying to compare it to what it feels like when I kiss you. I wanted to know if that feeling I get every time I'm with you is normal or—if there was something special about what we have, and there is. When I kissed her, it was nothing like when I kiss you—I felt nothing, only guilt."

"How sweet." My words dripped with sarcasm, I didn't even want to look at him anymore.

"I messed up," he reiterated, his eyes pleading. "I wanted to confess last night in the tower, but I got nervous. I promise, nothing like this will happen again."

"Yes, it will," I said, a realization dawning on me that I should have grasped long ago. "You made it clear from the start that this," I gestured between us, "was never going to be anything. I was merely a part of your experiments, a source of amusement. You told me it was casual, that it would eventually come to an end. You laid it all out for me, so I knew this moment would come; I just didn't expect it to happen so soon."

"She means nothing," he murmured, his voice barely above a breath, as if uttering those words was a desperate last stand, "You do. You aren't just for fun, I told you before that I do care about you."

"Whether that's true or not doesn't even matter anymore, Draco." I hadn't noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks until they began to blur my vision, a humiliating realization. "I came to understand at the end of last year that I wanted more. I wanted you. I wanted that title that you seem so determined to keep out of reach. I found myself actually falling for you," I confessed, his gaze locked onto mine, unyielding and shocked. Should he really be shocked though? It sure as bloody hell doesn't take a scientist to figure this out. "So maybe this is a blessing in disguise, because I should have ended it back then and spared myself all of this."

"No, I don't want this to end," Draco replied, his voice thick with emotion, "Look, we can—"

"I need it to," I countered, my heart heavy with the weight of my words, "For my own sake. So please, just stay away from me."  With that, I turned away, desperate to leave before my emotions overwhelmed me in front of him and I broke down.

This time, he stayed silent, watching me as I walked away. Each step i took away from him hurt me just a little more, a painful reminder of the bond we had built last year, now fraying at the seams.

As I turned a corner, I suddenly stopped, taken aback by the sight of Hermione's familiar brown eyes. She looked at me with an expression that suggested she had overheard everything, "Hermione, I—"

Before I could apologize for not being honest with her, she pulled me in a warm embrace, and I allowed myself to find comfort in her presence, letting myself cry my heart out into her shoulder. The world around us faded, the bustling corridors of Hogwarts becoming a distant hum as I held onto her tight.

"It's okay," she whispered gently. "You don't have to explain right now. Just let it out."

💚🐍

Later in the evening, Hermione and I were sitting in the Great Hall. Long tables were filled with students animatedly chatting, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. The enchanted ceiling reflected the night sky, with twinkling stars casting a gentle glow over the room. One by one, students approached the Goblet of Fire, their names disappearing into its depths with a soft whoosh, the flames flickering in response. I could sense the tension in the air, a blend of eagerness and anxiety that rippled through the crowd.

I turned to Hermione, "No interest?" I asked.

She shook her head, "Absolutely not. I find the whole concept completely barbaric—forcing young people to compete in a tournament where their lives could be on the line." Her brow furrowed slightly, and I could see the passion behind her words. Hermione had always been someone who stood up for her beliefs, and this was no different.

"I don't disagree," My eyes scanned the room, but as soon as I realized what I was doing, I quickly looked down at the floor. I was searching for him, and I now needed to put an end to that habit.

She snapped her notebook shut, drawing my attention back to her. I looked up just in time to see Viktor Krum glance back at her for a brief moment before he walked away. "Are you ready to talk about it?" she asked, her gaze now fixed on me, even though it had just been on him.

"I don't think there's really much to say," I replied with a sigh, my thoughts drifting as I scanned the room again, but I didn't see any familiar blonde figure. "We had...something casual, and now we have nothing."

"Forgive me if I am overstepping, but that didn't sound casual at all. You were in tears, and he looked like he was about to cry too. But you know how boys are; they always try to act tough." The idea of Draco Malfoy crying over me was almost amusing, but the pain I felt was too fresh for me to be capable of laughter.

"Doubtful," I whispered, my eyes locked on the origami heart that I nervously twisted between my fingers. It had been a cherished memento all summer, but now an intense urge to burn it welled up inside me. Not in the goblet, of course; the flames in the common room would suffice. The thought of watching it curl and blacken in the heat was oddly satisfying, a way to rid myself of the memories it held—memories that felt both precious and painful.

I hated it, picturing him and her when what had been going on between us was supposed to be special and meant for us only.

Hermione noticed my fixation and reached out, asking, "May I?" I nodded silently, handing the heart over to her. I watched as she carefully unfolded it, her eyes widening at the sight of the drawing Draco had made. "He drew this for you?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief, as if the idea were utterly absurd.

"Yes, last year," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

"Wow," she said, glancing back at the sketch. "I never thought I'd see a side of Draco Malfoy that wasn't completely unbearable." It was true; Draco had been the epitome of arrogance and entitlement, but there had been moments when he had shown a different side, a glimpse of vulnerability that I had never expected to find.

"He had his moments," I said, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips despite the ache inside me. I remembered the way he had looked at me, the way his expression had softened when he thought no one was watching. It was a side of him that felt like a secret, something I had tucked away in the corners of my heart, hidden from the world.

"I'm really sorry he hurt you," She said gently, handing the drawing back to me. I folded it carefully and placed it in the pocket of my robe. "You didn't deserve it."

Tears threatened to overflow again, and I quickly wiped them away, doing my best to keep my composure calm. I already broke down once—twice, and I didn't want a third. "I knew the risks when I got involved. I brought this upon myself." Laughter erupted around me, a chorus of familiar voices that I dared not acknowledge. I kept my gaze fixed downward, fearful of meeting his eyes. "Just don't breathe a word of this to anyone, okay?" I could hardly fight the urge anymore it was overwhelming, and I finally succumbed, my eyes landing on Goyle, Crabbe, Blaise, and Draco as they gathered around the Goblet of Fire.

The moment our eyes met, I felt the walls I had began to build again begin to crack. He stood there, silent, hands tucked into his pockets, while his friends eagerly dropped their names into the goblet. Yet he remained still, a statue amidst the chaos, his expression serious and unchanged. "Go on, Draco, put in your name. Don't be such a coward," Crabbe taunted, his voice dripping with mockery.

Draco's gaze snapped to Crabbe, his expression darkening. "Who are you calling a coward?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous, seizing Crabbe by the collar and shoving him toward the exit, "You should be thankful I don't throw you into the damn fire."

"Come on, I was just joking around," Crabbe protested, flinching at his friend's anger.

"Shut up and walk."

"Looks like your situation has him angrier than usual," Hermione mumbled next to my ear, "And don't worry, I won't say a word to anyone."

Draco turned around in my direction briefly before leaving, his expression shifted, the storm in his eyes momentarily replaced by a flicker of something more vulnerable, a glimpse of the boy beneath the bravado. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the familiar mask of arrogance and disdain as he left the room.

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