The Pact

Lucius settles into one of the high-backed chairs, his steely gaze fixed on Draco and me as we sit across from our parents. My mother perches gracefully on the armrest, her expression unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating off her.

Lucius breaks the silence, his voice smooth but laden with expectation. “You’ve both performed admirably tonight. It was… enlightening to see you working together.”

My mother nods, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s right. And it made us realize something important about the future of our families.”

Draco shifts beside me, his posture rigid. “What are you implying?” His voice is carefully controlled, but I can sense the underlying tension.

Lucius’s smile is thin, predatory. “A union between our families would solidify our standing. It’s time to consider… an arrangement.”

I stiffen, my heart pounding in my chest. “An arranged marriage?” The words slip out before I can stop them.

My mother’s gaze sharpens, her voice soft but firm. “Don’t be naive, Y/n. These decisions are made for the benefit of our bloodlines. You understand that, don’t you?”

Draco scoffs, his eyes locked on his father. “I can’t marry her.”

The words hit me like a slap. All the anger drains from my body, replaced by a cold, hollow feeling. Why did he have to say it like that? I’m not exactly thrilled about an arranged marriage either, but the way he dismissed it—dismissed me—hurts more than I care to admit.

I feel a pit of dread forming in my stomach, the hurt flashing across my face before I can stop it. I look away, trying to keep my composure, but the sting lingers. Why does it feel like Draco’s not rejecting the idea of an arranged marriage, but rejecting… me?

Beside me, Draco suddenly looks like he’s been punched in the stomach. He turns to face me, his eyes wide with something I can’t quite place—guilt, maybe. The disgust that had twisted his features moments ago is gone, replaced with worry.

“I didn’t mean—” He reaches out, but I pull back instinctively, my pride shielding me from the softness in his voice.

I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, not saying a word.

My mother raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension but saying nothing. Lucius, on the other hand, looks irritated by the interruption. “Draco, I expected more decorum from you. This is not the time for outbursts.”

Draco clenches his jaw, his eyes flickering between me and his father. “It’s not about—” He stops himself, exhaling sharply, and I can see the frustration in every line of his body.

I take a sharp breath in, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “It’s fine.” My voice is cold, detached. I won’t let him see how much it hurts.

“You don’t get it,” he mutters, almost to himself, but the words hang between us, heavy and unspoken.

Lucius’s eyes narrow. “Enough. Both of you, sit. This discussion is far from over.”

Draco hesitates, glancing at me one more time before taking his seat. I follow, my mind racing with questions and doubts. Whatever he’s hiding, whatever he meant, it doesn’t change the fact that, for a moment, it felt like the bond between us meant nothing to him.

I sit down, staying silent. I blink away the tears that started to form, turning my expression into a nonchalant mask. I cross my legs, rest my hands in my lap, and turn into the pinnacle of grace to please our parents. When I look at Narcissa, it feels almost as if I’m mirroring her, being the submissive, quiet girl they want me to be.

“I know this may seem excessive, but think about what this could mean for our families. A union of this caliber would benefit everyone,” my mother says, giving me an approving nod as she watches me tuck away my feelings.

“We’re only in fifth year, though,” I say softly, staying polite. I can feel Draco staring at me anxiously.

“Of course. You won’t be wed until you’re of age,” Narcissa chimes in, eyeing me with veiled curiosity. “That gives you two plenty of time to warm up to each other.”

Warm up to each other. The words twist inside me, a cruel reminder of how cold everything feels right now. I force a small, practiced smile. “Of course, Mrs. Malfoy. We’ll learn to get along.”

Draco shifts beside me, his hand curling into a fist on his thigh. “This is ridiculous.” His voice is low, but the edge is unmistakable.

Lucius’s eyes narrow dangerously. “You will speak with respect, Draco.”

“Respect?” Draco snaps, his composure cracking. “You’re talking about our lives like they’re bargaining chips. Like we don’t have a say.”

I glance at him, startled by the raw emotion in his voice.

“It’s for the greater good,” my mother interjects, her tone sharp. “You both know what’s at stake. This alliance ensures our legacy.”

Draco’s eyes meet mine, something fierce and unreadable in them. “What if I don’t care about legacy?”

My heart skips a beat, but I bury it under layers of indifference. “Then this shouldn’t bother you so much,” I reply, my voice soft but pointed. “If it doesn’t matter to you, what’s the problem?”

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I think he’s going to say something—something real—but he swallows it back. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I feel a pang in my chest, sharp and bitter. I wouldn’t understand? After everything, after the bond between us, he still keeps me at arm’s length. I nod my head, biting my lip as I look away. “You’re right,” I reply, my voice carefully neutral. “I probably wouldn’t.”

Narcissa watches us closely, her gaze flickering between Draco and me. “You two need to find common ground,” she says, almost gently. “It’s better for everyone if you’re united.”

Draco exhales sharply, looking away. “Yes, mother.”

The words are like a knife, cold and final. I nod, mimicking his detachment. “I’m honored you think I’m good enough to match with your only son.”

Draco narrows his eyes, catching the edge in my tone.

“Of course we do. You’re intelligent, loyal, kind and obedient. Not to mention, you’re as beautiful as your mother. Why wouldn’t you be?” Narcissa says softly, raising an eyebrow.

I look at Draco, keeping the cold detachment on my face. “I don’t know. Why wouldn’t I be good enough?”

The question was obviously rhetorical, but Draco picked up on the venom in my voice. He shoots me a guilty look, but I’m too upset to care.

Lucius stands, clearly satisfied. “Well, then. This discussion is settled.”

But as I glance at Draco, our eyes meeting for a brief, painful moment, I know nothing is settled at all.

“Now you two best be off back to school. The house elves will finish cleaning up,” my father chimes in, looking at me sympathetically. “I love you, darling.”

“Love you, too,” I say weakly, giving him a soft smile. Bond or not, my dad can read me better than anyone else.

I stand up and he gives me a small hug before my mother and the Malfoys usher us out. Narcissa hugs Draco, and I can almost swear she whispers something to him while she does, but I can’t quite make it out. All I know is I feel a pressure across my chest as she pulls him in a little too tightly.

We head over to the floo, stepping in next to each other. I feel the familiar rush of the green flames licking around my body, and we’re back at Hogwarts.

Draco steps out first, offering me his hand. I look him in the eye, brush myself off, and ignore it.

As I brush past him, he drops his hand at his side, balling it into a fist. “Lavigné.”

I just keep walking, ignoring him. He sighs, walking up behind me and grabbing my arm.

“Wait, please.”

The desperation in his voice and the softness of his grip catch me off guard. I stop dead in my tracks, turning around to face him. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Okay, what is going on with you? You know that’s not how I meant it,” he says softly, his eyes searching my face.

“Do I?” I reply, pulling my arm out of his grip. “Is that what this has been all along? You’ve only been working with me because you’re desperate to break the bond to get away from me?” My voice rises involuntarily, cracking just a little. I try desperately to keep it together.

“No, of course not! It’s not like that.” Draco steps closer, his jaw tight. “Lavigné, you’re twisting my words.”

I laugh bitterly, the sound sharp even to my own ears. “Oh, am I? Funny, because it felt pretty clear. You acted like the idea of me was repulsive.”

He reaches out, but I take a step back. “It’s not like that. I was—”

“Save it.” I glare at him, my voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. “You didn’t even hesitate. Couldn’t reject it fast enough, could you?”

Draco’s eyes flash with frustration. “Because it’s not about you—”

I cut him off, my voice rising. “Right. It never is, is it? I’m just collateral damage in whatever war you’re fighting with your father. And you know, I’m sure I’m not the prettiest or smartest girl ever, but you could definitely do a hell of a lot worse than me.”

“Is that what this is? I bruised your ego?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“My ego?” I scoff. “I don’t need you to make me feel good about myself, Malfoy. In case you haven’t noticed, I have plenty of people fawning over me. I just can’t understand why, out of all people, you think you’re so much better than me! I thought you were—”

“Will you just let me explain?” His voice is desperate now, but I refuse to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it. I know where you stand now.”

“Lavigné, please.” He steps in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “You don’t understand.”

I glare at him. “No, I understand perfectly. You think I’m beneath you.”

“Would you just—”

“Let me ask you something, Malfoy. If it weren’t for the bond, would you have anything to do with me? Would you still respect me as a person, or would you still be acting like a prick like when we first met?”

He pauses, hesitating. “That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well, life’s not fair.” I run a hand over my face, making sure my tone is measured. “I know you only protect me because we’re blood tied, but I thought we were…” I trail off, the edge leaving my voice. “…friends, at least.”

His eyes soften and I feel a pang of confusion. Is that me or him?

“At least?”

I look up at him, having a hard time meeting his eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like friends is the right word considering the situation. I mean, I can literally feel you.” I absentmindedly run my fingers over the chain of his necklace, feeling leftover warmth from the stone. “Best friends doesn’t feel right either, though, because you don’t actually like me as a person, you just tolerate me.”

Draco’s eyes widen, hurt flashing across his face. “You think I just tolerate you?”

I wrap my arms around myself, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “What else am I supposed to think? Every time we’re around your family, you make it clear where I stand. Like I’m some burden you can’t shake off.”

He steps closer, his voice lower but intense. “That’s not true. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I scoff, my eyes narrowing. “Then enlighten me, Malfoy. Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’d rather be anywhere else than near me.”

A flurry of emotions swirl around inside of me. Guilt, anger, dread, anxiety, desperation. Im really starting to hate being able to feel what he feels. It’s hard to tell where my feelings end and where his begin.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, searching for words. “I’m trying to protect you—”

“Protect me?” I cut him off, my voice sharp. “You don’t get to play the hero here. You humiliated me in front of everyone, like I’m some pathetic joke. I don’t need your protection. I needed—” My voice catches, and I look away, clenching my jaw. “Never mind. Forget it.”

Draco steps back slightly, his expression guarded. “You don’t get it.”

“Because you won’t let me!” I snap, my frustration boiling over. “You always hide behind half-truths and cryptic remarks. I’m sick of it. Just say it, Malfoy. Whatever it is, just say it or don’t bother talking to me at all.”

He’s silent, his fists clenched at his sides. The hurt in his eyes is like a slap, but I refuse to let it soften me.

“Exactly what I thought.” I look away from him, taking a sharp breath. “We need to get to the room of requirement. My actual friends are waiting for us.”

The hurt on his face gets resolved into a cold mask, and he nods his head like this is exactly what he expected. “Right.”

I start to make my way down the hallway, hearing his footsteps following closely behind. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take long. Then you can take your much needed space from me.”

I hear him huff, but he doesn’t reply. I’m sure I’ve effectively pissed him off.

So why do I feel like I miss someone?