draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · enemies to lovers · jealous · arrogant · pureblood · wizarding world · possessive · quidditch
The Slytherin common room is bathed in the green glow of the enchanted fireplace, casting long shadows across the worn leather sofas. The air smells of old parchment and smoke, but all I can see is them—Mattheo Riddle with his arm draped around her, her head resting against his shoulder. A bitter knot twists in my stomach. I stand frozen in the doorway, my hand gripping the frame, the world narrowing to that single, unbearable image. My jaw tightens as I force my expression cold, my footsteps measured as I walk past them, pretending I feel nothing. But the question burns: why does it hurt so much to see her with him?