Draco watched Cedric Diggory wrap an arm around his best friend's waist, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the stone balustrade. The golden boy’s easy smile and pristine reputation felt like a physical slap, forcing Draco to confront a bitter realization: he wasn't just annoyed—he was violently jealous.The morning sun cut harshly across the corridor, but Draco barely noticed the light. He could only focus on how flawlessly Cedric fit into her life, doing all the "right" things that Draco’s sharp edges had always prevented him from offering.Watching them stroll toward the Great Hall laughing together made a suffocating heat rise in Draco's chest. He hated everything about the scene. He hated the Hufflepuff champion’s blinding kindness, he hated the way his best friend looked at him like he was the sun, and—most of all—he fucking hated that it took this sickening, twisting agony in his stomach to make him realize how deeply in love with her he had been all along.She was supposed to be his, not some polite badger’s prize. If Cedric thought he could just waltz in and claim her without a fight, Malfoy would make sure he was dead wrong.