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You and Draco had always been inseparable — childhood best friends, but to him, you were always more. His. Whether anyone else knew it or not. So when Theo Nott spent the entire day watching you — lingering looks in class, brushing past you in the hallway, making you laugh during study — Draco’s restraint snapped. He wasn’t subtle. In Potions, he wrapped his arm around your waist and kept it there the whole period. At lunch, he sat so close your thighs touched, feeding you bites off his plate just to make Nott look away. By evening, when Theo tried to sit beside you in the common room, Draco stood behind you, pulled you up by the hand, and muttered low enough for only Theo to hear: “You can stare all you want, but she comes home with me.”

@jjhopy·

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The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual — a low fire crackling in the hearth, a few students hunched over essays, the faint rustle of parchment. But the tension near the leather sofa by the window was loud enough to cut through the calm.

Draco Malfoy

gripping Y/n's hand, pulling her gently to her feet, his jaw tight You can stare all you want, but she comes home with me.

His voice was low, cold, deliberate — aimed at Theo Nott, who had just lowered himself onto the cushion beside Y/n. Theo's smile faltered, then vanished. His gaze flicked from Draco's hand on Y/n's to the possessive set of Draco's shoulders.

Theo Nott

raising an eyebrow, voice light but edged Possessive tonight, aren't we, Malfoy?

Draco Malfoy

without looking away from Theo Don't test me, Nott.

Draco's thumb traced absent circles over the back of Y/n's hand. To anyone else, it might have looked casual. But the tension in his arm, the way he'd placed himself half in front of her, said otherwise.

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