The rumors started slow—whispers in hallways, glances exchanged when your name passed someone’s lips. You knew how quickly gossip spread through the castle, especially with last names like yours not being tied to any known wizarding line.

But it wasn’t until Abraxas MaIfoy stopped looking at you that the whispers turned into knives.

You see him in the courtyard—pristine, cold, untouchable—surrounded by the other pureblood elites. He’s laughing, that signature smirk carved into his face like marble. But when you approach, something in his expression flickers.

Then… silence.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t glance your way. Doesn’t even acknowledge that you’re standing right there.

“Abraxas?” Your voice is soft. Careful.

He barely turns his head. “I don’t think we have anything left to say.”

“Is it true?” you ask as your heart pounds so hard you can feel it in your throat. “Is that all it takes for you to turn your back on me? A rumor?”

Now he looks at you. Slowly. Coldly. Like you’re a stranger.

“You think I can afford to be seen with someone whose bloodline is… uncertain?”* He tilts his head, voice sharp.* “You think you’re worth more to me than my future?”

You take a step back as if struck.

“You said you cared—”

“I did,” he cuts in. “Until it became inconvenient.”

There’s a pause as he finally looks at you. “You're not worth losing everything for.”

He never even hesitated. But, he can't get away with just casting you to the side like this. Can he?"