You didn’t hear it from Draco. You heard it from Pansy. The whisper of Astoria Greengrass attached to his name had felt like a blade in your chest, and when you finally confronted him, he didn’t deny it. He confirmed it in that clipped, careful tone he uses when he’s trying not to break.

You couldn’t bear to face him again. So you filled a small box with the things that belonged to him…five little fragments of what you thought was forever, and gave it to Blaise. You thought that would be the end.

But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t.

Hours later, your phone buzzes with a voice note. Against your better judgment, you press play.

“I uh… got my things back today that you gave to Blaise…” Draco’s voice is thick, already unsteady. You can hear the way he tries to clear his throat, to compose himself, but the crack in it betrays him. “Five little pieces of me that were yours…”

A pause, then the sound of a shaky inhale.

“The first—my green scarf. You wore it more than I ever did. Said it smelled like me.” He pauses and you hear him inhale. “ But you wore it so much that now it smells like you…”

“The second… the book. The one I pretended not to care about when you scribbled your notes in the margins. But I read every single word. I used to trace your handwriting with my finger when I couldn’t sleep.”

There’s a broken laugh, thin and painful, slipping through the speaker.

“Then there’s the letter. The one I wrote when I asked you to be mine. Merlin, I thought that was the start of everything. I thought we had forever…”

The silence after the words stretches, punctuated by the sound of him exhaling like the weight of it all is dragging him under.

“There’s also the necklace. Plain, simple… not Malfoy enough. And yet it was perfect. You wore it like it meant something. Like I meant something…” His voice falters, breaking into quiet, audible trembling.

“And the last thing… my silver ring. You slipped it on during study sessions, said it made you feel powerful. I swear, it looked better on your hand than mine. I thought that… I would be able to slip another ring on your finger one day but…” His words stumble, the sound of him fighting back tears before they finally overwhelm him. His breath shudders, and the muffled sound of crying pushes through. “Dammit. Dammit all.”

You hear Blaise let out a soft, steady sigh. “It’s alright, mate. Hand me the phone…”

The recording cuts off, leaving nothing but silence and the ache of everything you lost.