Shattered Bonds

1| Echoes of the Past

The music floated softly through the air, creating a festive yet somber atmosphere. Draco scanned the crowd, his heart skipping a beat when he caught sight of Faith. She glided into the ballroom, a striking vision in emerald green that accentuated her graceful figure. Her laughter, light and melodic, caught his ear, pulling him from the formalities of the evening.

"Look who's finally graced us with her presence," Lorenzo remarked, nudging Draco with a teasing grin. "You alright there, cousin?"

Draco's throat tightened. "She shouldn't be here," he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his fascination. Faith had always had that effect on him.

As she moved through the crowd, chatting animatedly with some of the other Slytherins, Draco couldn't help but remember the warmth of their shared moments—the late-night study sessions, the whispered secrets, and the way her smile lit up even the darkest corners of his life. But all that had crumbled when he chose Pansy, a decision that still haunted him.

"Draco! Stop staring and greet her!" Lorenzo urged, nudging him again, but the words fell flat in the charged air between them.

With a deep breath, Draco approached Faith, who was now laughing with Millicent Bulstrode. The moment she noticed him, her laughter faded slightly, replaced by an unreadable expression.

"Faith," he said, his voice barely above the murmurs of the crowd. "You look... lovely."

Her cheeks flushed, and for a moment, he saw the spark of the old Faith—the one who had once been his everything. "Thank you, Draco," she replied, her tone measured. "It's nice to see you."

The tension hung between them, thick and palpable. Draco wanted to reach out, to explain, to make her understand that his choice hadn't meant he didn't care. But the ghost of Pansy loomed nearby, a constant reminder of his mistakes.

"I didn't know you were coming," he managed, the awkwardness stretching between them.

"Neither did I," she admitted, her gaze darting away. "But you know how the Malfoys are about tradition."

Just then, Pansy appeared, draping herself around Draco's arm with a bright smile that felt all too forced. "There you are, Draco! I was looking for you," she said, oblivious to the tension.

Faith stiffened, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Enjoy the ball," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice as she turned away, leaving Draco torn between his past and the present.

"Draco!" Pansy exclaimed, pulling him back to her. "Let's go mingle, shall we?"

But Draco's mind was elsewhere, watching Faith blend back into the crowd, her laughter now distant, leaving a void where warmth once thrived. He felt the weight of regret settling heavily on his shoulders.

Lorenzo watched him with knowing eyes. "You really messed up, didn't you?"

Draco sighed, the weight of his choices crashing over him. "I thought I wanted Pansy. But..."

"It's not too late," Lorenzo suggested, nudging him forward. "Go talk to her."

With a steeling breath, Draco glanced once more at Faith before weaving through the throng, determined to reclaim what he had lost—even if it meant confronting the truth he had long avoided.