The Game | D.M

22

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'Distance'

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Aria Zabini

Weeks had passed since the return from winter holidays, and Hogwarts had settled back into its usual rhythm. But for me, the days had taken on a strange, almost surreal quality. 

I spent more time than I cared to admit with Laurent. Our encounters, a drug I couldn't quit. Laurent's touch, his kisses, the way he looked at me—all of it provided a distraction. But the more I sought his company, the more distant I became towards everyone else.

One evening, as I walked into the Slytherin common room, I notice Draco perched against a wall. Waiting for someone. His expression was as cold and calculating as ever. Typical.

I tried my best to ignore him as I make my way over to the bookshelf, but soon, he quickly found himself beside me. Grabbing my arm before I could reach a book.

"Zabini," Draco said, his voice low and insistent.

I sighed, trying to brush past him. "I'm not in the mood for one of your taunting."

But Draco stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Relax, I'm here on behalf of your twin and best friend."

My eyes flashed with anger, reaching for my wand. "For what? You think you're our self-appointed leader? You can just speak for them?"

Draco grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. "You're just speaking nonsense, they didnt say it, but they've been showing signs of being hurt by your careless actions."

I wrenched my arm free, my voice rising. "Sure. And Merlin himself will come in and save us all from what we have doomed. Maybe I just need a break from all this—" I gestured around the common room, my frustration palpable. "—from all of you."

Draco's eyes narrowed, a knowing look creeping into his gaze. "So Lambert is your escape these days? Instead of alcohol. "

My cheeks flushed, a mixture of anger and embarrassment. "That's none of your concern."

Draco took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Do you remember the night of the ball? The drinks we shared, the secrets we spilled?"

I stiffened, my heart racing. "That was just drunken, emotional talk, Malfoy. It meant nothing."

Draco's smirk was infuriating. "Maybe. But I don't think I can forget the multiple bottles under your bed or the fact that you're cracking under pressure at this very moment. Right before everyone's very own eyes."

My anger boiled over. "You're promised to Astoria! Whatever happened that night was just a moment of weakness for both of us. I'm not cracking under pressure, I'm simply enjoying my last however long I even have."

Draco's expression hardened. "Astoria and I... that's different. What we talked about that night was real. What we felt, was real. I understand the pressure, were all feeling it. But, we cant separate."

I pushed him away, my voice shaking with fury. "You have no right to lecture me about what's real. You have your future already made, if I get just a taste of getting away, I will. So just leave me be, if my brother or Pansy want to talk to me, tell them to talk to me."

For a moment, we stood there, glaring at each other, the tension thick. Then Draco's gaze softened slightly, a rare hint of vulnerability showing through. "Fine. Put yourself in even more danger. But just remember, you are his favorite."