𝙄𝙙𝙞𝙤𝙩 || 𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙮 & 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

CH #6

Holly's POV:

I sat on the grass outside the castle, the cold blades tickling my palms as I leaned back to watch the first years. They gathered in tight-knit groups, their robes slightly too big, wands waving clumsily as they showed off the new spells they'd learned in class.

A boy managed to produce a weak fountain of water from his hand, spraying the group around him and earning a round of laughter. A girl nearby tried to levitate a rock, her tongue poking out in concentration as it wobbled a few inches off the ground before dropping with a dull thud. Her friends clapped for her anyway, and she beamed, already trying again.

It was my free period, one of the rare moments where I could steal a few minutes to myself. With a sigh, I opened my book-a dense volume on magical theory-and flipped to the section I'd bookmarked the night before. The sounds of the first years faded into the background as the words drew me in, but not before I caught myself smiling faintly at their enthusiasm. It reminded me of when I'd been like them-wide-eyed, eager to prove myself, though far less carefree.

I tried to focus on the book, but my thoughts drifted against my will-toward Draco Malfoy. It wasn't like I wanted to think about him. I spent enough of my days dealing with his sharp words and smug smirks.

He had this uncanny ability to make himself unforgettable, his constant presence like a splinter lodged beneath the skin. Even when he wasn't around, it felt like his voice was still there, echoing in my mind, picking apart every move I made.

He had a way of twisting things, turning simple moments into something irritating, something complicated. Even now, I could practically hear the drawl in his voice as he'd mock me for sitting out here alone. He'd probably say something about how my "free period" was just an excuse to avoid people. And maybe he wouldn't be entirely wrong, but it wasn't like I'd give him the satisfaction of admitting that.

I sighed, closing my book for a moment and staring at the distant horizon. No matter how much I tried to block him out, Draco had this talent for sneaking past my walls-not with kindness or effort, but by sheer, relentless annoyance. He was like a buzzing fly you couldn't swat away, always there, always pushing until you snapped.

The worst part was how easily he got under my skin. I told myself it didn't matter, that he didn't matter. But somehow, his words had a way of lingering, of planting themselves in my head and refusing to leave.

I shook my head and opened the book again, forcing my focus back onto the page. I wasn't going to let him take up any more of my thoughts. Not now, not when this was supposed to be my time. But even as I read, the faint hum of his imagined laughter echoed in the back of my mind, like a shadow I couldn't quite shake.