His love

⚕️ Chapter 6: Friends ⚕️

The sun streamed through the high arched windows of Hogwarts, casting a warm glow over the bustling Great Hall during breakfast. Students chattered animatedly, the sound of clinking silverware mixing with laughter and the occasional shout. Draco Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table, his pale blond hair perfectly styled, watching the chaos unfold with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

Draco had always been somewhat of an outsider, accustomed to being regarded with envy or disdain by his peers. He had spent most of his first term keeping to himself, more focused on proving his family's worth than making friends. However, things changed when he first laid eyes on Daphne Riddle.

Daphne entered the Great Hall, her presence captivating. With her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and striking green eyes, she stood out among the sea of students. Although she was new to Slytherin, she carried herself with an air of confidence that intrigued Draco. He had overheard whispers about her—she was Voldemort's daughter, after all, though many believed she was better suited to a life outside of her father's shadow.

"Who's that?" Draco asked, leaning toward Crabbe and Goyle, who were seated beside him.

"Daphne Riddle," Goyle said, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. "She just got sorted into Slytherin."

"Another rich girl, probably," Crabbe added, dismissively.

Draco shook his head, his curiosity piqued. Unlike the other girls he had known, Daphne didn't seem overly concerned with fitting in or seeking validation. She navigated the hall with an air of purpose, heading toward the Slytherin table with a determined stride.

Over the next few weeks, Draco found himself drawn to her. They often crossed paths in the library, where they both sought refuge from the raucous common room. At first, their interactions were brief, simple exchanges of pleasantries as they studied side by side. But Draco couldn't help but notice the way her brow furrowed in concentration, her quick wit shining through in their conversations.

"Are you always this serious?" he teased one evening, watching her as she poured over a thick tome about advanced potion-making.

Daphne glanced up, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "And are you always this frivolous, Malfoy? Perhaps you should try studying once in a while."

Draco feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Frivolous? Never!"

From that moment, a friendship began to blossom between them. They often partnered up for classes, helping each other with homework and practicing spells. As they spent more time together, they discovered that they shared a similar sense of humor and a thirst for knowledge.

One afternoon, as they sat on the grass near the Black Lake, the sun casting a golden hue over the water, Draco turned to Daphne, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What do you want to do after Hogwarts?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Daphne paused, looking out at the water. "I want to explore the world. There's so much more out there than just the wizarding community. I want to understand magic in a way that goes beyond what we learn in school."

Draco considered her words, admiring her ambition. "You're not going to follow in your father's footsteps, then?"

A flicker of sadness crossed her features before she masked it with a smile. "No, I want to forge my own path. I believe there's more to life than darkness and power."

Draco's heart raced at her revelation. He had always felt the pressure of his family's legacy weighing down on him, and it was refreshing to hear someone else express a desire for something different. "I admire that," he admitted. "I've always felt like I had to uphold my family's reputation, but sometimes it feels...heavy."

Daphne met his gaze, her eyes shimmering with understanding. "Then maybe you should find your own way too. You don't have to be defined by your last name."

Their conversations deepened as they shared their hopes and dreams, both unaware of the hidden connection that tied them together. As the weeks turned into months, they became inseparable, navigating the trials of Hogwarts side by side.

During a particularly grueling Potions class, Professor Snape assigned them a challenging project. As they worked together, Draco attempted to impress her with his potion-brewing skills, but things quickly took a turn for the worse.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Daphne teased, a knowing smile on her face as he accidentally knocked over a vial.

Draco laughed, shrugging it off. "Of course! Just testing your abilities, that's all."

They ended up in a fit of laughter, the tension of the class melting away. It was moments like this that solidified their friendship—a bond built on trust, humor, and shared experiences.

One evening, while lounging in the Slytherin common room, they shared stories about their families. Draco spoke of his upbringing, of the pressures that came with being a Malfoy, while Daphne revealed fragments of her own past, painting a picture of her life before Hogwarts.

"My mother left when I was young," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "She couldn't handle the darkness that surrounded my father, so she chose to distance herself from it all."

Draco's heart ached for her. He had often felt the strain of his own family dynamics, but Daphne's resilience impressed him. "You're stronger than you know, you know that?" he said softly.

Daphne smiled, appreciation shining in her eyes. "And you're not as bad as I thought you were, Malfoy."

As winter settled over Hogwarts, Draco and Daphne found solace in their friendship, warming each other during the long, cold nights. They studied for exams together, shared secrets in the quiet corners of the library, and reveled in their shared adventures—whether it was sneaking into the Forbidden Forest or concocting elaborate plans to prank unsuspecting Gryffindors.

One evening, as they sat in the common room, an uncomfortable silence fell between them. Draco's mind was racing, thoughts swirling as he struggled with an unspoken question that had lingered for weeks.

"Daphne," he began hesitantly, "do you ever think about your family? I mean, about your father?"

Her expression shifted, the lightness in her eyes dimming momentarily. "Sometimes. I wonder about him and what he wants from me. I don't want to be a part of his legacy, but it's hard to ignore."

Draco nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy. "You don't have to follow in his footsteps, you know. You have the power to choose your own path."

"I know," she said softly. "But it's not always that simple."

The two fell silent, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Despite their close friendship, there was a veil of uncertainty between them, a truth they were both unaware of—the truth of their shared blood.

As spring approached, their friendship blossomed. They became each other's confidants, a lifeline amid the swirling chaos of their lives. Draco had found in Daphne a partner who challenged him and inspired him to look beyond his family's expectations, while Daphne discovered a friend who saw her for who she truly was, not just as Voldemort's daughter.

One afternoon, as they strolled the grounds, the sun shining brightly overhead, Draco turned to Daphne, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm really glad we became friends. You've made my time at Hogwarts a lot more bearable."

Daphne beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "I feel the same way, Draco. I never expected to find someone like you here."

As the year came to a close, Draco and Daphne stood at the edge of the Black Lake, watching the sun set in a blaze of orange and purple. They had grown closer than either had anticipated, their bond solidifying in the face of adversity.

But as the summer approached, a question loomed in the back of Draco's mind—could their friendship withstand the secrets of their past? He couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper connected them, something they hadn't yet uncovered. The truth was waiting just beneath the surface, and as their first year at Hogwarts drew to a close, both were blissfully unaware of the storm that awaited them.