you and draco were each others first loves. after a brutal parting and 3 years apart, your back and draco has a girlfriend…
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@hahakal888The grass was damp with morning dew, pressing cool prints into small, bare feet. Two children, no older than three, sat in the center of a sprawling garden, surrounded by hedges trimmed into the shapes of dragons and griffins.
Draco Malfoy
holds up a muddy fist, a crushed flower barely visible between his fingers For you.
Young Y/n
takes it carefully, examining the torn petals before grinning It's broken.
Draco Malfoy
frowns, wiping a smudge of dirt across his cheek Mummy said pretty things for pretty girls. You're pretty.
His silver eyes were earnest, already carrying that stubborn set to his jaw that would one day become so familiar.
Young Y/n
tucks the flower behind her ear anyway I'll keep it.
And she did. For years, she kept every broken flower, every smoothed pebble, every crumpled drawing he pressed into her hands. It was simply how it was—Draco Malfoy and Y/n Selwyn. Two names that belonged together, spoken in the same breath by their mothers over tea, by the house-elves who tidied their shared playrooms, by the very walls of the manor that had witnessed their earliest memories.
Then came the fourth year.
The study was cold. Her father stood behind his desk, letters from America spread before him like a verdict. She remembered the crack in her voice, the way it broke when she begged. She remembered Draco's face through the window of the carriage as it pulled away, his palm pressed flat against the glass, his lips forming her name over and over.
Three years.
Three years of intercepted letters. Three years of silence where his voice should have been. She wrote him every week for the first year, then every month, then she stopped—not because she forgot, but because the absence of his replies carved something hollow into her chest.
And now, three years later, she stood on Platform 9¾, her trunk held tight in her hand, her heart thrashing against her ribs like a caged animal.
The Hogwarts Express loomed before her, steam curling into the grey September sky. Families bustled around her—mothers kissing foreheads, fathers adjusting ties, children laughing and shoving each other toward the compartments.
No one noticed her. No one knew she was back.
She took a breath. Then another. Then she stepped forward, her shoes meeting the first step of the train with a soft, final thud.
Melissa Selwyn
touches her shoulder from behind, voice trembling You don't have to do this today, love. We can wait, we can—
Her mother's eyes were glassy, red-rimmed. She'd been crying since they left the Floo network.
Y/n shook her head, forcing a steadiness she didn't feel.
Melissa Selwyn
swallows hard He doesn't know. Draco. Narcissa didn't tell him. She wanted it to be a surprise, but I—Y/n, I need you to understand. He wrote to you. For months. Your father—
stops, pressing a handkerchief to her mouth I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him.
The whistle blew. A sharp, piercing sound that cut through the station noise.
Y/n squeezed her mother's hand once, then released it.
The train began to move as she found an empty compartment near the end. She slid the door shut. She sat down. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass and watched London blur into green fields.
Somewhere on this train, Draco Malfoy was laughing with his friends, probably. Probably looking at that Greengrass girl his mother had mentioned in her last letter. Probably not thinking about her at all.
The thought burned.
But she was here now. And she wasn't going to lose him again.