Y/N x Draco Malfoy (Enemies to Lovers)

Distances

Y/N's POV

It was becoming easier to ignore Draco Malfoy. At least, that's what I kept telling myself. But the truth was, his absence left a void that I didn't know how to fill. Ever since our last confrontation, something inside me had shifted—anger had taken over, numbing the hurt. I threw myself into Quidditch practices, academics, and my relationships with Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

I refused to give Draco any more space in my mind, especially now that I was spending more time with Oliver Wood. The Quidditch captain had always been kind, but lately, we'd been talking more—about Quidditch, classes, even life outside of Hogwarts. He was confident, determined, and his energy was almost contagious. It felt good to talk to someone who wasn't caught up in their own darkness.

"So, you're ready for the next match?" Oliver asked with a grin as we walked out of the Great Hall after breakfast. "I have a feeling Gryffindor's going to wipe the floor with Slytherin this time."

I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "Confident much?"

"Of course," he replied, nudging me playfully. "Especially when you're on our team. You've been incredible lately, Y/N. You're a natural."

I smiled at his words, feeling a warmth that had been missing for a while. Spending time with Oliver was effortless, like the weight of my problems with Draco didn't exist in those moments.

As we walked toward the Quidditch pitch for practice, I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Draco lurking nearby, but he wasn't. Maybe that was for the best. The distance between us felt safer, and the anger I held onto acted like a shield—protecting me from the hurt.

Draco's POV

She was laughing. With Wood. I had to force myself not to storm over and hex the both of them. Watching Y/N walk next to him, talking and smiling like nothing had changed between us, made my blood boil. She was avoiding me, and I knew it. It wasn't just hurt anymore; it was fury. How dare she act like I didn't exist?

I leaned against the cold stone wall, glaring as she and Wood disappeared around the corner, heading towards the Quidditch pitch. Quidditch. She'd thrown herself into that, into her little Gryffindor bubble. And Wood—he was all too happy to fill the gap I'd left.

"Tsk, pathetic," I muttered under my breath, clenching my fists. I couldn't even focus in class anymore. Every time I saw her, it was like a punch to the gut, but I didn't know how to deal with it. So, I did the only thing I knew—lash out. My insults toward other students had become sharper, my temper shorter. Even my own housemates were starting to steer clear of me.

But no matter how cruel I was to everyone else, nothing compared to how I treated Y/N. Every glance she gave me felt like a dagger, so I made sure she regretted looking my way. I made her regret ever crossing paths with me. At least that's what I told myself.

I couldn't get her out of my head, though. That infuriating laugh, the way she had looked at Wood, the way she used to look at me... it was all wrong.

She was supposed to be mine.

I slammed my fist against the wall, pain flaring up my arm. She's Potter's sister. That's why. I can't be with her. I won't allow myself to be with her. But no matter how many times I reminded myself, it didn't help. Every time I saw her with Wood, it felt like betrayal.

Y/N's POV

Quidditch practice went well, and Oliver stayed behind to give me some extra tips on flying. His enthusiasm was contagious, and it felt good to be surrounded by someone who believed in me, and who didn't make me feel like I had to be anything other than myself.

As we finished up, Oliver shot me a grin. "You're really getting the hang of this, Y/N. I wouldn't be surprised if you outshine me one day."

I laughed. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

But as I headed back toward the castle, something inside me felt off. I couldn't shake the feeling that Draco was watching me, even though I hadn't seen him all day. I tried to ignore the pit in my stomach, the nagging sense that I wasn't ready to fully move on from whatever we had. But how could I move on when Draco made sure to hurt me whenever he could?

The next morning, as I walked through the corridors with Hermione, I felt it again—Draco's eyes on me. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't stop myself. His gaze was hard, cold, and filled with something I couldn't quite place. It wasn't just anger. It was something darker.

"What?" I snapped, unable to hold back the irritation.

He sneered, leaning against the wall. "Wood teaching you how to fly, is he? How sweet. Maybe he'll help you with more than that."

My stomach churned at his words. "What's your problem, Draco?"

"You are," he spat, stepping closer. "You think you can just move on like nothing happened? Like you didn't—" He stopped himself, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap.

"Like I didn't what?" I shot back, my heart pounding.

"Like you didn't ruin everything," he muttered, his voice low and full of venom. "You're a Potter. You're not worth my time."

The words hit harder than I expected. I'd heard him say cruel things before, but this... this felt different. It felt final.

"Fine," I said, my voice shaking. "If that's how you feel, stay out of my life."
And for the first time, I meant it.

Draco's POV

I watched her walk away, her back rigid and her head held high, and I hated every second of it. But what choice did I have? She was Potter's sister. There could never be anything between us.But the more I told myself that, the more hollow it felt.