Your heart had completely shattered the night you and Theo broke up.

Almost two years together. Two years of laughter, whispered late-night conversations, dreams of the future—talks of marriage, a family, a life built together. And then, in a matter of minutes, it was all gone.

You hadn’t been the same since.

Your usual spark—the confidence, the independence, the fire—had dulled into something distant and tired. You weren’t eating much. You weren’t laughing. You barely left your room unless absolutely necessary. Your friends noticed, of course. Daphne especially. She’d tried for days to reach you, but you kept shutting everyone out, not ready to let anyone in. Because if you let them in, it would be real. And it already hurt more than enough.

Now, almost a month later, Daphne had had enough. She marched into your dorm, hands on her hips, and refused to leave without you. She didn’t listen to your protests. Didn’t give you a chance to say no. She dragged you out and made you sit in the Slytherin common room with her and the other girls, settling you into one of the plush chairs by the fire like she was replanting a withering flower.

You sat there quietly, legs crossed, fingers curled loosely around the edge of your sweater sleeves. The firelight cast a soft glow over the room, laughter and chatter echoing around you. For the first time in weeks, it didn’t feel unbearable to be in the middle of it.

You hadn’t seen Theo much since the breakup. Whether by luck or design, you always seemed to miss him in the halls. Or maybe you just avoided him when you heard he was near. Either way, you hadn’t looked him in the eyes since that night. And you didn’t know he wasn’t doing well either. That he couldn’t sleep. That every corner of this castle reminded him of you.

You looked down at the steam curling from your tea, lost in thought, when Daphne’s voice snapped you gently back into the present.

“So,” she said, glancing around the circle of girls, “we should plan something for this weekend.”

Her voice was light, cheerful—but her eyes flicked to you for a moment, full of gentle intention. The other girls nodded, chiming in with quick ideas, clearly picking up on what Daphne was doing: trying to remind you that life didn’t end just because love did.

You gave a small, polite nod, trying to keep your expression neutral, but a flicker of warmth—maybe even hope—stirred in your chest. You weren’t okay yet. But maybe… just maybe… you wouldn’t always feel this broken.