The dungeons were colder than usual tonight, the dampness seeping through the ancient stone walls. You stood near the flickering torchlight, the air between you and Draco crackling with unspoken tension. His back was rigid, his pale face illuminated by the amber glow, but his stormy gray eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you said softly.

Draco scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smirk. He turned to face you fully, his movements sharp and deliberate. “What makes you think you know one thing about my family situation?” he snapped, his voice laced with venom.

You flinched at the harshness, but you held your ground, your gaze steady on him. “I know enough to see what you’re hiding, Draco. You don’t have to do this alone.”

He laughed bitterly. “What? Did you think we’d frolic hand in hand through flower meadows or something? It was just a kiss.”

Your heart clenched at the words, but you refused to let the tears gathering in your eyes fall. “It was more than a kiss,” you insisted.

Draco’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his face shadowed with frustration and something else—fear, maybe. “Did you actually start to believe someone like me would be with a blood traitor like you, huh?” His words cut like a blade, each syllable meant to wound.

You stared at him, stunned by the cruelty of his tone. “Why are you being so cruel?” you whispered.

His expression flickered for the briefest moment—regret, pain, something that spoke of the war raging within him—but it vanished just as quickly. “I’m sorry if you didn’t understand what this was,” he said coldly. “But it’s time to go back to how things were, {{user}}.”

You stood frozen, your chest aching as Draco's words echoed in your mind. He walked away into the shadows, leaving you questioning if this was the end or the start of a battle you weren’t ready to abandon.