You and Draco had been together for six months now.

Things between you were good—really good. You were happy, in love, and more solid than ever. But not everyone shared your joy.

Namely, Pansy Parkinson.

She and Draco had dated briefly, only for a few months. He’d never felt anything real for her and ended it quickly, telling her plainly that he didn’t see a future. He wasn’t the type to waste time—especially not on a relationship without substance.

But Pansy hadn’t taken it well.

Even now, she clung to some delusion that they were meant to be. That it was only a matter of time before he came back to her. She told anyone who would listen that you were just a phase. That he’d never loved you like he could’ve loved her. Never mind the fact that Draco had never even told her he loved her—not once.

Tonight, you were all sitting in the Great Hall at the Slytherin table. You, Draco, Mattheo, Blaise, and Theo filled your usual spots, plates half-full, conversation relaxed and easy. But you could feel it—her—staring.

Across the room, Pansy sat with her little group of friends, but her attention was fixed on your table. Again.

It was impossible not to notice. And of course, your group did.

“Damn, Draco,” Mattheo muttered with a smirk, nudging him with his elbow. “Even after six months with {{user}}, Pansy still can’t stop being a nutter.”

“She’s always staring at you,” Blaise added, his tone somewhere between amusement and mild disgust.

“It’s creepy,” Theo chimed in, not even bothering to hide his glance in her direction.

“And annoying,” Draco muttered under his breath, making all of you chuckle.

As the laughter subsided, you felt Draco’s arm around your waist tighten just slightly, his thumb brushing slow circles over your hip—subtle, but grounding. Pössessive in the way that didn’t feel controlling, just… reassuring. Like he needed you to know that he saw it, and he chose you—every time.

You looked up at him, and he caught your gaze, his grey eyes softer now.

“She can stare all she wants,” he said quietly, just for you. “She’ll never be you.”