As Blaise and Y/N lay together on the bed, wrapped up in each other's warmth and the soft glow of the candlelight flickering in the dormitory, a peaceful silence settled over them. They both felt content, lost in the afterglow of their passionate moment, their fingers intertwined as they shared soft, whispered words of affection.
"Blaise," Y/N murmured, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Hm?" he replied, his hand lazily tracing patterns on her back.
"I never want this to end," she whispered, her voice full of sincerity.
He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "It doesn't have to, love. I want you with me, always."
Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, and she tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining with emotion. But just as she was about to respond, the door to the dormitory swung open with a loud bang, startling both of them.
They both sat up quickly, their intimate moment shattered as they turned to see who had barged in. Gregory Goyle, one of Blaise's friends, stood in the doorway, his bulky frame filling the entrance. His expression was sour, and the sneer on his face made it clear that he was not pleased with what he saw.
"What the hell is this?" Goyle growled, his eyes narrowing as he looked between Blaise and Y/N, who was still dressed in Blaise's clothes and sitting on his bed.
Blaise's expression immediately hardened, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled Y/N closer to him, shielding her with his body. "Goyle, what do you want?" Blaise's voice was cold, a clear warning in his tone.
Goyle's sneer deepened as he took a step into the room, his gaze fixed on Y/N with a look of disdain. "I didn't realize you were into... trash," he spat, his tone dripping with contempt. "I guess the rumors are true. You're really slumming it, Zabini, hooking up with a Mudblood."
Y/N's heart clenched at the derogatory term, her blood running cold as she felt the weight of Goyle's words. But before she could react, Blaise was already on his feet, his entire posture radiating fury.
"Watch your mouth, Goyle," Blaise snapped, his voice dangerously low as he took a step toward his so-called friend. "You don't get to talk about her like that."
Goyle raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting such a vehement reaction from Blaise. "Oh, come on, Blaise. It's just a bit of fun. You know she's not—"
"Shut up," Blaise cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I don't care what you think you know. Y/N is worth more than you could ever imagine, and if you ever call her that word again, you'll regret it."
Goyle's eyes widened slightly at Blaise's threat, but he quickly masked it with a smirk. "You've gone soft, Zabini. All this over a filthy Mudblood? You're better than this."
Blaise's fists clenched at his sides, his anger barely contained. "You're the one who's pathetic, Goyle. You think blood status means something? You think it makes you better than her? Let me tell you something: Y/N is more powerful, more intelligent, and more beautiful than anyone in this entire castle. And she's mine."
Y/N's heart swelled at Blaise's words, her fear and discomfort quickly melting away as she watched him stand up for her with such passion and conviction.
Goyle, however, wasn't finished. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You've really lost it, Zabini. You're going to throw away everything—for her?"
Blaise took another step forward, his voice cold as ice. "I'd throw away everything a hundred times over for her. If you can't respect that, then you're not my friend."
