It’s some kind of sick, twisted game. This constant obsession with each other.
“Mudblood,” he snarls, while passing her in the hallway.
“Malfoy, “she says back, her voice filled with disdain.
Pansy’s listened to this for years. Seen them exchange insults and hexes, their eyes flashing fire
as they face off. Sometimes it’s nearly enough to take her breath away.
He never exhibits this much emotion in front of her.
His eyes follow Granger as she storms off. “She’s just a Mudblood, Draco. Forget her,“ Pansy says soothingly.
But when he’s not looking, a silent tear slips down her cheek.