You never meant to spark a war between them.

Before you and Oliver officially became a couple, both he and Draco had fought for you in their own ways — Oliver with stubborn loyalty and quiet devotion, Draco with fierce protectiveness and possessiveness he didn’t know how to name.

And when you chose Oliver… When you kissed him first… When you whispered you wanted him…

Draco’s pride cracked.

He claimed he was fine. He acted indifferent. He smirked and scoffed and rolled his eyes whenever Oliver came to walk you to class.

But Draco Malfoy was never fine with losing.

Especially not losing you.

It started small.

Little things.

Your levitation spells faltered. Your wand trembled in your grip. Your Patronus fizzled out in silver smoke.

Then your strength disappeared.

Stairs exhausted you. Holding a broom made your arms ache. Your legs shook even during short walks across the Great Hall.

Oliver noticed immediately.

“Y/N?” he whispered one morning, thumb brushing your cheek as you swayed on your feet. “You’re burning up. Sit down.”

You tried to insist you were fine.

But your vision blurred. Your knees buckled.

And Oliver caught you in his arms like you weighed nothing at all.

His voice wasn’t calm. Not even close.

“Something’s wrong. This isn’t normal. We’re going to Madam Pomfrey— now.”

He carried you all the way there.

Madam Pomfrey couldn’t explain it.

Your magic was fading. Your strength was draining. Your body acted like your very life-force was leaking away.

Oliver refused to leave your side. He sat by the bed with his hands shaking, checking on you every minute.

“Someone did this to her,” he growled under his breath, running a trembling hand through his hair. “This isn’t sickness. This is… this is foul magic.”

And in the shadows of the Hospital Wing doorway, someone else listened.

Draco.

His eyes were dark. Guilt flickered across his face — then vanished, buried under anger and jealousy and something twisted deep inside him.

He hadn’t meant for it to be this severe. He just wanted Oliver shaken. He wanted you back in Slytherin’s arms, recovering at his side, choosing him again.

But the spell didn’t weaken Oliver.

It only made him more desperate for you.

And it only made you collapse into Oliver’s embrace.

Not his