a snape and a Malfoy

THE UNSPOKEN THOUGHTS

The following weeks after the Gryffindor match were a whirlwind of classes, homework, and Quidditch practice. The sting of Draco’s loss during the match had faded, but something else had taken its place. Every time he saw Cera—whether they were walking to Potions class together or practicing on the Quidditch pitch—he felt a strange, unfamiliar tug in his chest.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

It wasn’t like anything he had felt before. She was his closest friend, that much was obvious. They had known each other for years, ever since their parents had arranged their engagement when they were just children. But something had shifted since that summer. He found himself watching her more often, his thoughts drifting toward her when she wasn’t around. And the worst part was that he didn’t know what to do about it.

---

One chilly afternoon, after an exhausting Potions lesson where Professor Snape had pushed them harder than usual, Draco and Cera walked down toward the Slytherin common room together. Draco’s bag was slung lazily over his shoulder, and his mind was still racing with the complicated mixture of emotions he’d been wrestling with all term.

“Do you ever feel like Snape is harder on us than the rest of the class?” Draco grumbled as they reached the dimly lit corridor near the dungeons. “It’s like he expects us to be perfect just because we’re Slytherins.”

Cera glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “He probably does. But you know what he's like—if you don’t meet his standards, he’ll make sure you know it.”

Draco sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes I think his standards are impossible.”

Cera chuckled, her voice soft but full of confidence. “You’ve just got to focus, Draco. You’ll get it. You’re not as bad as you think.”

Draco stopped walking for a moment, surprised by the sudden compliment. Cera usually didn’t dish out praise so easily, especially not to him. He turned to look at her, and for a moment, the noise of the castle and the bustle of students moving past them faded away.

“What?” Cera asked, noticing his expression.

“Nothing,” Draco said quickly, shaking his head, though he couldn’t shake the warmth he felt from her words. He started walking again, but the silence between them felt heavier now, filled with the unspoken tension that had been building for weeks.

Finally, Draco couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Cera,” he said, his voice more serious than usual. “Do you ever... think about what our parents want?”

Cera frowned slightly, clearly unsure where he was going with this. “You mean, the engagement?”

Draco nodded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve known about it since we were kids, but it’s never seemed... real, you know?”

Cera paused for a moment, her face unreadable as she considered his words. “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted. “But it’s not like it matters right now. It’s not like we have to do anything about it until we’re older.”

“Right,” Draco agreed quickly, relieved that she wasn’t reading too much into his question. “It’s just... I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like they expect us to act a certain way because of it.”

Cera nodded slowly, but her gaze shifted slightly as if something else was on her mind. “Do you want that?” she asked after a moment, her voice quieter now. “To follow through with what they want?”

Draco hesitated, his mind suddenly racing. Did he want that? For years, he had taken it for granted that he would follow whatever path his family set out for him. He was a Malfoy, after all. But with Cera... things were different. It wasn’t just about duty or obligation. He cared about her. Maybe more than he should.

“I don’t know,” Draco finally admitted, his voice softer now. “Maybe. I just...”

He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the storm of emotions that was brewing inside him. Cera watched him for a moment, her expression softer than usual. She didn’t push him to continue, and for that, Draco was grateful. She had always been like that—knowing when to give him space, when to let him figure things out for himself.

They walked in silence for a few more moments, the echo of their footsteps the only sound in the corridor.

---

That evening, after a long day, Draco found himself sitting alone in the Slytherin common room. The green flames in the fireplace cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, and most of the other students had already gone to bed. But Draco couldn’t sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of Cera and the confusing feelings he had been bottling up.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment. Maybe writing her a letter would help him clear his head. It had worked over the summer, after all. He dipped his quill into the ink and began writing, his hand moving across the page without much thought.

---
Draco’s Letter:

Cera,

I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about earlier. About what our parents want and about us. I’m not very good at this sort of thing, but I think I should say it, or I’ll keep driving myself mad.

You’re different from everyone else. You always have been. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve known each other for so long, or if it’s just who you are, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know if it’s because of what our families expect or if it’s just me, but I feel like things have changed between us. And I’m not sure what to do about it.

I guess what I’m trying to say is... I care about you. A lot. More than I probably should. I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but I needed to tell you. Even if it doesn’t change anything.

Draco

---

Draco stared at the letter for a long time, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been this honest with anyone before, and the idea of sending the letter terrified him. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything between them?

After a moment, he crumpled the letter in his hand, tossing it into the fire before he could change his mind. The flames consumed it quickly, the words disappearing in a flash of green light.

Draco sighed, leaning back in his chair. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe some things were better left unsaid.

---

The next morning, Draco and Cera met again in the Great Hall for breakfast, as they always did. She greeted him with her usual smirk, and they fell into their familiar routine of trading quips and discussing classes. If she noticed that anything was different, she didn’t mention it.

And maybe that was for the best.

But even as Draco tried to push his feelings aside, he couldn’t help the small flicker of hope that maybe—just maybe—Cera felt the same way.

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