A crack.

The castle was eerily quiet at night.

Draco and I, exhausted from another agonizing day under Umbridge's rule, wandered the dimly lit corridors, trying to steal a moment for ourselves. It had become so rare—these moments where it was just us, unburdened, free from responsibilities, free from the chaos of Hogwarts.

We were prefects. We had duties. We had Umbridge. We had an entire war brewing in the shadows.

But tonight... tonight, we were just Draco and Selene.

We moved in hushed whispers, our quiet laughter echoing softly against the stone walls. Every so often, Draco would tug me behind a pillar when we heard the distant shuffle of Filch or Mrs. Norris. It was thrilling—being here with him, just the two of us, like it used to be.

At one point, he caught my wrist, twirling me into him so fast that I barely had time to react before my back collided against the cool stone wall. I gasped, but he only smirked, pressing one palm flat beside my head while the other rested against my waist.

"Scared, Blackthorn?" he teased, his voice low, tantalizing.

I rolled my eyes. "Of you? Never."

But my breath was already uneven.

We were close—too close. I could feel the heat of him, the way his presence surrounded me, intoxicating and overwhelming in all the ways that made my head spin.

He tilted his head, studying me, fingers tracing absentminded circles at my hip. "We don't do this enough anymore," he murmured.

My heart clenched. "I know."

Because it was true.

Everything was different this year. We barely had time for each other—between our prefect duties, our coursework, Umbridge's insufferable reign... and my secrets.

Draco didn't know.

He couldn't know.

He didn't know that I spent my nights sneaking into the Room of Requirement. He didn't know that I was standing beside Harry bloody Potter, learning spells to overthrow the very woman he was subtly trying to impress. He didn't know that I—Selene Blackthorn, his girlfriend—was leading a double life.

And yet...

He could sense something was off.

Because Draco Malfoy was many things, but oblivious was not one of them.

"What?" I asked, feigning nonchalance, even as my pulse hammered in my throat.

He exhaled, his gaze flickering across my face. "You're distracted."

My stomach twisted.

I forced a smirk, tilting my chin up. "Can you blame me?" I teased. "We have a toad ruling the school, an incompetent Ministry, and—" I gestured around us dramatically, "—now we spend our nights chasing after first-years."

He huffed a laugh, his fingers grazing my cheek, his thumb sweeping over my jaw with an aching softness that made my breath catch. "You work yourself up too much, love."

Love.

That single word, soft and possessive, nearly undid me.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

Because I was working myself up. I was pulling away, hiding parts of myself that I had never hidden from Draco before. He was my best friend. My safe space. He trusted me.

And I was lying to him.

I hated it.

I hated that I had to keep this from him. That every time I looked into his stormy grey eyes, there was a tiny voice in my head whispering betrayal, betrayal, betrayal.

I hated that I was actively doing exactly what he feared most—keeping secrets.

But I was smarter.

I had to be.

Draco could not know.

So I tilted my head, letting my lips curve into something smug and effortless. "Are you saying you don't enjoy my stress, Malfoy?" I teased. "How dull would life be without me?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Merlin forbid you ever take it easy on me."

And then—

His lips brushed against mine.

A breath. A whisper.

Then, finally, finally—

He kissed me.

And it was electric.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft. It was desperate—like he was starved for it, for me. Like the past weeks had been just as miserable for him as they had been for me.

I gripped onto him, fingers threading through his hair, and let myself fall—just for a moment. Just for this.

Because if I thought about it—if I let myself dwell on the fact that I was lying to this boy who trusted me—I would break.

So I didn't think.

I let him kiss me, let him press me against the cold stone, let myself pretend that everything was normal.

That I wasn't hiding something.

That I wasn't betraying him.

That I wasn't slowly falling apart.

But that was the problem, wasn't it?

Lies could only last so long before they came crashing down.

And with Umbridge's reign tightening around our throats, it was only a matter of time before mine did.

It started subtly.

Little shifts in conversation. A few stolen glances in the Great Hall. A casual wave exchanged across the courtyard.

I wasn't stupid. I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew the risks. I knew what it would look like to anyone watching, let alone to Draco.

But I had made my choice.

And now, I had to live with it.

Kenny and Draco both noticed it immediately—the way my sharp-edged distance from the other houses had begun to soften. At first, it was harmless—just polite acknowledgments, short conversations here and there, a passing remark to Longbottom that he didn't completely botch his potion in class for once.

Draco raised a brow but brushed it off.

Then, it became more.

I lingered a little longer in conversations with Weasley. Smiled at Luna Lovegood in the corridors instead of scoffing like I once might have. And, worst of all, Potter.

Potter had started talking to me.

And I was responding.

Kenny had been the first to truly voice it. "Selene," she had sighed dramatically one evening in the common room, collapsing onto the couch beside me, "you do realize that if you keep this up, you might actually make friends with them?"

Draco had snorted, lounging back in his chair, arms crossed, looking every bit the part of a bored prince. "Don't be ridiculous, Kenny. She'd never sink that low."

Blaise smirked. "Wouldn't she?"

And I should have laughed. Should have tossed my head back and shot back something witty, something effortless, something that would make them forget all about it.

But I didn't.

Because just then, I had been on my way out of the common room. And when I stepped outside, who was waiting for me at the other end of the corridor?

Harry bloody Potter.

And I went.

Kenny's teasing eyes. Blaise's knowing smirk. Draco's smug amusement that hadn't yet turned into something real.

All of it had burned behind me as I left.

But the change wasn't subtle anymore.

Draco found his new jealousy inspiration, and it wasn't Blaise's smug little quips anymore. It wasn't some faceless Durmstrang boy from the Yule Ball or some upper-year Ravenclaw who happened to glance my way.

It was Harry Potter.

Draco had hated Potter for years, but this? This was different.

And I could tell.

Because this wasn't the dramatic, over-the-top performance of hatred that Draco had always been good at.

This was quiet.

It was the way his jaw tensed when he saw me speaking to Potter outside the Charms classroom. The way his hands curled into fists when he spotted me sitting beside him in the library. The way he went completely silent when Blaise teased him about it in the common room, his usual smugness drained from his face.

And then came the moment. The moment I couldn't brush it off anymore. The moment it became real.

It was a Thursday afternoon. Slytherins and Gryffindors had just finished a miserable Potions lesson, and I had somehow found myself standing beside Potter as we exited the classroom. It was barely even a conversation—I had muttered something snarky under my breath, and Potter, to my horror, had actually smirked back.

It was harmless.

But then—

"Careful there, Potter," Blaise had drawled from behind us, voice dripping in amusement. "You wouldn't want Draco to get the wrong idea, now would you?"

And then—

Laughter.

Theo, Pansy, the usual group—it was all in good fun. A bit of teasing, a bit of mockery, the way we always did.

Except this time, Draco wasn't laughing.

And I couldn't brush it off.

Because I was standing beside Potter. Because, for the first time, I was actually talking to him without an insult. Because, even though it wasn't that kind of betrayal, even though I would never, ever feel anything remotely close to attraction for Potter, I was betraying Draco.

But not in the way he thought.

No.

This betrayal was something far, far worse.

Because I wasn't cheating on Draco. I wasn't falling for someone else.

But I was lying to him.

I was keeping something from him. Something huge. Something that would shatter him if he ever found out.

And the worst part?

He would never see it coming.

Draco Malfoy could expect a million things from me. He could expect defiance, teasing, even cruelty when it came to Potter and his lot.

But never this.

Never that I was learning magic behind his back. That I was standing in a room full of people he despised, training under Potter himself, fighting against the very system his father upheld.

That I was becoming part of something bigger.

That I was choosing a side.

And it wasn't his.

And that—that hurt more than any other kind of betrayal ever could.

But destiny was on my side. Draco, Pansy, Kenny, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle and Theo had all joined something called the 'Inquisitorial Squad'. That was a catch. It meant that they will have extra duties and I won't have to explain to them why i vanish at odd hours. Because while i am at the Room of requirement, they will be in duties. So when Draco asked me to join it, i said no.

Draco's POV

Something was off.

It started as a whisper, a nagging, gnawing little thing at the back of my mind. Subtle at first—Selene had always been her own person, never one to be bound by anyone, not even me. I loved that about her.

But lately?

Lately, there was something different.

She disappeared at odd hours. She made excuses that didn't sound like excuses, but I knew her too well to take them at face value. She laughed too easily when she was caught off guard, a little too quick to change the subject when Kenny pressed her on what she was really up to.

And the worst part?

She thought I wouldn't notice.

I may be many things, but stupid isn't one of them.

So when the opportunity presented itself, I took it.

The Inquisitorial Squad—Umbridge's golden little army. It was an advantage we could all use. Authority. Power. The ability to dock points from those idiot Gryffindors without relying on Snape. A chance to finally put Potter in his place.

And, more than that, it meant Selene would be where she belonged.

By my side.

So, naturally, I asked her.

I waited until we were alone. No audience. No meddling Blaise or watchful Kenny or loud, nosy Pansy. Just us, standing in the dimly lit corridor, away from the prying eyes of the world.

She had been in a hurry, I noticed. As if she had somewhere to be.

I ignored the sting in my chest.

"You know, we could really use you in the Squad," I said, keeping my tone light. Casual. Like I wasn't watching her every move.

Selene blinked at me, expression unreadable. "What?"

"The Inquisitorial Squad," I repeated, stepping closer. "It makes perfect sense. We already have the badges, we're already working under Umbridge—"

"You're working under Umbridge," she corrected smoothly, arms crossing. "I never agreed to that."

That threw me off.

I frowned. "Since when do you care?"

Selene cared about a lot of things. Her grades, her friends, her hair (Merlin forbid). But school politics? No. She never wasted her time on something trivial.

So why now?

"I just don't see the point," she shrugged, looking anywhere but at me. "It's more work for no reason. Don't we already have enough to deal with?"

And that's when I felt it.

That slow, creeping sensation of something slipping through my fingers.

Selene was the one person I trusted more than anything. More than Blaise, more than Kenny, more than myself.

So I did what I always did when I felt her pulling away.

I reached for her hand.

She let me, but only barely.

"Selene," I said, voice softer now, searching her face for anything, any sign that would explain why she was suddenly looking at me like I was the enemy. "It's us. We're on the same side, aren't we?"

For the first time, she hesitated.

And for the first time, I felt something crack.

It was small, barely noticeable. But it was there.

And I hated it.

Selene was mine. Not in the possessive, foolish way other boys claimed their girlfriends, but in the only way that mattered.

I knew her.

Knew the way she hated pumpkin juice but still drank it when she thought no one was looking. Knew how she rolled her eyes when she was nervous but never when she was truly annoyed. Knew how her mind worked, how she thought.

And I knew she was hiding something from me.

I almost wanted to believe it was nothing.

That I was being paranoid. That I was imagining things. That whatever had been making my skin itch these past few weeks was just some meaningless distraction.

But then she pulled her hand away.

And that—that was when I knew.

Something had changed.

She had changed.

And for the first time since I had known her, I wasn't sure if she was still mine.