A Mistletoe Encounter - A Draco Malfoy x Reader Imagine

by oneofmymes

Summary:

I suck at coming up with good titles... But basically-

In which you, a muggle-born (or a mudblood, which Malfoy have been so kind as to remind you all of your four years at Hogwarts), gets stuck under an enchanted mistletoe with said Malfoy.

The catch; neither of you are able to leave until you share a kiss - a real kiss - with each other. Fred and George, the brilliant minds behind this prank, should watch their backs when you make it out of there...

...If you make it out of there, rather.

-

Gender-neutral Imagine

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First part can be read as an imagine, but this work has since then turned into a short story I think...

Chapter 1

You hated Malfoy. With all of your heart, you hated him. He’d tormented you all of your four years at Hogwarts, had made you miserable whenever he got the chance. He was always on about how you shouldn’t even go to this school, just because you were a muggle-born and wasn’t even a real witch. He didn’t use such nice terms for it, of course. He much preferred the word mudblood to call you by.

He was heartless. He didn’t understand what it was like having to leave your family at eleven years old and be thrown into an unknown world. Everything around you felt foreign and even without his bullying, you felt out of place. You hadn’t felt like you belonged at Hogwarts until in your second year when you’d befriended another muggle-born - Hermione Granger. She was all that was right about Hogwarts, and she’d made you feel at home. It wasn’t just because she could relate to all your muggle references, but because she stood up for herself. She was fearless, didn’t let Malfoy get to her even when the names stung. In many ways, you wished you could be like her.

You wished you could have been more like her. Then, maybe he wouldn’t get to you the way he did. You couldn’t help the anger rise in you when he spit insults like 'mudblood' your way. If you didn’t know better, you’d throw yourself at him and claw your nails into his skin until he was unable to say anything else. But you never did. You just let the insults pour at you, felt the sting from every word as if they were acid, and tried to defend yourself best you could by insulting him back. He never seemed to get as offended as you did.

Tonight, you also hated Fred and George Weasley. You usually liked the twins. They came as a bonus of befriending Granger as she hung out with their younger brother, Ron. Fred and George had also made you feel at home, made sure to bring a smile on your lips whenever you hung out. They were infamous for their many pranks on the students at Hogwarts, and like most others, you found the pranks hilarious. That might’ve been due to the fact that you weren’t ever one of their victims.

Tonight, you hated Fred and George.

It was almost Christmas. There was only a week left before Christmas break, and truthfully, you shouldn’t be surprised that the twins had come up with a Chrstimas themed prank. The idea was fun, almost cute if you were being honest - at least theoretically, and you would’ve loved to stand on the sidelines and watch others get stuck under the mistletoe and share a kiss. Only, you weren’t on the sidelines.

You were going to kill the twins when you finally got out of there. If you got out of there, rather.

You’d left for dinner at the Great Hall some time ago and had been walking down the castle peacefully. Timing was everything, and your timing had been awfully unfortunate.

You thought you were just rounding a corner, but so was Malfoy, and you’d almost crashed into him.

“Watch where you’re going, mudblood,” he’d spat as he passed you, intentionally bumping into your shoulder to prove a point. You’d been too hungry to do anything but roll your eyes as you continued away from him.

Only, neither of you had gotten far. It was like you’d both walked into invisible walls and you found yourself bouncing back, your backs colliding.

“What the-” Malfoy had exclaimed, and it was clear his anger was directed at you to begin with. But his sentence was cut short when he threw himself around only to realize you were as shocked as he.

The confusion had flashed across his eyes before he quickly masked it with anger again. “This isn’t funny. I’m gonna be late for dinner,” he spat. If he recognized you weren’t behind this, he clearly didn’t care.

You were going to kill Fred and George.

“Well, so am I,” you spoke back, that same annoyance dripping from your own voice. You both held each other’s gaze with looks that could kill, anger reeking from both of you. Neither of you wanted to be stuck here - especially not with each other.

After a few seconds of staring, you averted your gaze. Malfoy snorted, probably under the impression you gave up the staring contest, but you ignored him. Instead, your gaze wandered around you, tried to find the reason you were both stuck in this invisible tight space. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes landed on the mistletoe hanging above your heads.

The twins had talked about the prank last week, but you hadn’t payed much attention. Much less had you thought that they’d go through with it.

“I’m going to kill them,” you muttered under your breath once you realised what was going on.

“What was that?” Malfoy asked you, still directing all his annoyance toward you. Your eyes found his again. There was a fire of annoyance burning in his eyes, mixing with his otherwise ice gold glare. No way were you kissing that guy, even if it meant you were stuck here with him until Fred and George could come and save you.

You didn’t answer, instead flopped down on the floor in front of him. Everyone was at the Great Hall by now, so no one would be able to help you until dinner was over. You just had to sit the time out. Maybe you could go to the kitchen later tonight and ask the house elves for some food.

Malfoy must’ve spotted the mistletoe above you because his anger seemed to multiply.

“Is this your doing, mudblood?” he spat. “Are you so desperate for a kiss that you trap me here with you?”

Disbelief rushed through your veins and you looked up at him with an icy glare. “I don’t wanna be here any more than you do,” you told him. Your voice was calm, but cold. “Stop being so full of yourself,” you added before averting your gaze again and turning it to look across the hall. You wished you were there instead, by that other wall, far away from Malfoy.

The prank had seemed so fun. The students who got stuck under it had to share a kiss - a real kiss - to get out of there. You’d thought it was cute, helping crushes to get together and matchmaking students.

There was nothing cute about Malfoy and you being stuck under the mistletoe together. He was your bully, for fuck’s sake. Sharing a kiss with him to get out of there was anything but romantic.

You could feel Malfoy rolling his eyes at your comment, but to your surprise he let you have the last word. “How long is this gonna take?” he asked instead. He sounded tired, clearly done with being in your presence already. You finally had something in common because you didn’t wanna spend another second with him either.

“There are no loopholes, if that’s what you mean,” you answered plainly. This was probably the most normal conversation the two of you had ever had.

Malfoy groaned. He understood what it meant and wasn’t exactly happy about it. Neither were you.

“Aren't there any counter spells?” he asked you. His voice sounded desperate and some of that annoyance was back.

You rolled your eyes where you were seated on the floor. “Like I would know,” you hissed at him. “But if you hex us both by trying something-” you started, your eyes flicking up at him. You probably didn’t look so threatening to him, but the meaning behind your words had him lower his wand again.

“If you hadn’t bumped into me-” he told you, his temper lost again and anger burning in his eyes. Your head snapped back up at him and you matched his fury.

“No, you don’t get to blame this on me. You could’ve watched where you were going just the same,” you angrily told him, finally having had it with his attitude.

“You should watch your mouth,” he snapped, but you didn’t even flinch.

“Or what? You’re gonna run to daddy? I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear you’d kissed a mudblood.”

The fire in Malfoy’s eyes was replaced with something venomous. Staring into them made the air get sucked out of your lungs. It made chills run down your spine, and you wondered if he was capable of killing you right there on the spot.

But his voice wasn’t deadly like you’d anticipated. “I’m not kissing you,” he stated matter of factly, his voice chilly. Then he averted his gaze to look in front of you, right where you’d looked mere moments ago. He probably also wished he was across the hall.

You also averted your gaze from him, finding your own spot in front of you to stare at. Your arms had come up to cross over your chest and you rested your head back against the cold stone wall.

“Good, because I’m not kissing you either,” you huffed.

“Good,” he answered.

“Yeah, good.”

What followed was an unbearable silence. You almost preferred your bicker over the awkwardness. Both of you stared in front of you, anger pumping through your veins, and you were uncomfortably aware of the tension that coated you both, trapped you together in it. What scared you was that there was something sizzling in the air between you, an electricity that sparked like the insults you’d just thrown at each other had.

Too many moments passed and you wondered how dinner in the Great Hall was. You wondered if your friends missed you, and when they’d come to your rescue.

You looked up when he leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed in annoyance. The perfect opportunity to check him out had just presented itself. Even when his personality was awful and you hated the way he treated people, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was hot. His blond hair was longer now than it had been last year, and a fringe of hair had fallen down over his face, almost veiling his eyes. His cheekbones were high, looked piercing in the dim light, and his jawline was well defined from where you stared up at him.

Your gaze wandered down, checked out his slim yet toned body. Of course, you couldn’t see his muscles under his robes, but your imagination took you on a small adventure anyway, all while your gaze was stuck on him.

You hadn’t noticed his eyes open nor his gaze flicking to you - only to catch you staring. It was first when he spoke to you that you were pulled out of your fantasies and was back at the floor in front of him. You were beyond embarrassed.

“Checking me out, were you?” he asked you, but to your surprise, he didn’t sound annoyed. No, he was nothing but amused and he looked down at you with a wicked grin tugging at his lips. All the anger was gone from his eyes.

You felt your cheeks burn up and you quickly averted your gaze to spare yourself from the embarrassment. It didn’t help you to bury your face in your hands. He’d already seen you blushing.

“No,” you were quick to deny what you so obviously had been doing. “No, I wasn’t.”

You felt small, wished for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

You were going to kill Fred and George. Not only had they trapped you here with Malfoy of all people, but it had gotten so far that you were checking him out. And he’d caught you.

Were you so desperate to get out of here? Then, why were you suddenly enjoying this?

Malfoy huffed amused, and seemed to be going back to lean against the wall, eyes closed. You didn’t dare check if that was the case until some long moments after, when you were sure the blush was gone from your cheeks.

After sending a quick glance up at Malfoy - he was indeed leaning against the wall in the same way as before - you went back to staring in front of you again. The silence was evident, but not as suffocating as before. The tension seemed to have eased, and the anger had vanished.

After another few minutes, Malfoy spoke up. “How long do you think ‘til everyone will leave the Great Hall?” he asked. The tone of his voice shocked you. It wasn’t annoyed, or cold even. He spoke to you like you were a decent human being for the first time. Looking up at him at the question, your eyes met for a brief second, and you couldn’t find any of his usual hatred in them either.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “It can’t be that much longer.”

Malfoy nodded. Then, he let his back slide against the wall until he was seated on the floor beside you.

You looked at him, a furrow between your eyebrows. “I’m not sure you want to be found sitting here next to a mudblood,” you told him, enunciating the word 'mudblood', and he turned his head to look at you. It made you awfully aware of how close you suddenly were.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “I’m still not kissing you, if that’s what you’re inquiring,” he spat to which you rolled your eyes. But the bite in his voice was gone. Despite keeping up the facade of hating each other, neither of you put in enough effort to make it convincing. The usual bicker lacked the resentment that was characteristic of it.

You sat next to each other in silence a little longer. The hall was still quiet, indicating that no one had yet left the Great Hall.

“And I don’t mind being found sitting next to you,” Malfoy added a while later, yet again breaking the silence.

Your eyes snapped to him and your eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. He didn’t? He should. His friends would avada him if they found out he was sitting here with you - let alone talking to you in the decent tone he did.

“Aren’t you scared of what your friends might think?” you asked, unsure of how to feel about his statement.

Something unreadable flickered across his eyes and your eyebrows furrowed, as if that would help you figure out what was hidden behind his grey orbs.

Malfoy shook his head. “They won’t ever find out,” he mumbled and your eyes furrowed further. You looked into his eyes, felt captivated by them, as you tried to puzzle together what he meant.

Then, without warning, Malfoy closed what small distance was left between you and his lips crashed against yours. At first, you were stunned, as if someone had cast the petrificus totalus on you, and you couldn’t quite understand what was happening. You felt his lips moving against yours, and to your own surprise found yourself starting to kiss him back.

The kiss was hungry, as if all of the anger you’d directed toward each other these past years had led up to this moment, and you poured all the hatred you’d felt for him into it. The hatred turned into passion and your lips moved in sync for what felt like forever.

Something was burning inside of you, a warm feeling that grew in your chest and worked its way out into your fingertips. Your hand had ended up in Malfoy’s hair, your fingers entangled in his blond strands. Your other arm rested around his neck and you could feel yourself pulling him closer to you, unable to let him go.

He deepened the kiss, had one of his own hands under your chin and held you firmly in place. His touch was gentle, yet felt electrical. You couldn’t get out of his grip - but you didn’t want to. Suddenly, you were kissing with tongue, the innocent mistletoe-kiss having turned into an entire make out session.

The sparks were wild between you - you could tell from the way your mouths danced with each other as if they were two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. You didn’t want the kiss to end.

Of course, it had to at one point. You both pulled away, panting and desperate for air. Malfoy’s eyes found yours and that same fire you’d felt through the kiss a second ago was burning in them. He stared at you with pure desire, and it made butterflies swarm every inch of your body. You felt exposed under his gaze, both wanting to flee from the unspoken connection you shared and never wanting him to take his eyes off of you again.

Suddenly, voices echoed through the halls. The first students had left dinner. Both yours and Malfoys eyes flickered in the direction of the Great Hall and the enchantment that had pulled you toward each other moments ago was lifted.

Malfoy was quick to his feet, brushing off his robes and you followed suit.

Electricity was still sparkling between you even when you were standing inches apart. Malfoy’s eyes still glistened from the heated moment, and you were sure you mirrored his expression.

“Not a word about this to anyone” Draco told you, his voice stern. He was still panting, which made his sentence come out shaky. He had put up his cold facade again, and his eyes were back to looking annoyed, but you saw through the layers he put up to protect himself - all the way to the lust in them.

You rolled your eyes, but not as far back as you usually did.

“I’m serious, Y/n,” he said again. This time, the irritation was back in his voice, but it didn’t feel directed toward you like usual. Your heart sped up at the use of your first name. Apparently, you'd skipped the formalities. “Not a word,” he repeated as he started to back away. He masked his emotions well behind the hostility in his eyes, but you knew it was all a facade to hide the fact that you’d both enjoyed the kiss.

Then he turned around and was walking away from you down the hall. You watched him leave, and reality caught up to you. His footsteps echoed as he went, got quieter the further away from you he got.

What had just happened?

With each step Malfoy took, the distance between you grew, and the kiss felt less and less real. You felt your breathing going back to normal, but the thoughts swirled in your head like a storm inside you.

Thinking back at the kiss, it felt like a dream and you wondered if your mind was playing tricks on you. Your swollen lips was proof that the kiss had indeed taken place, and you could feel them slightly pulsating from the hunger with which Malfoy had kissed you, yet you couldn't believe any of it had happened.

His footsteps mixed with those of other students, and suddenly you could no longer differentiate his presence. He was gone.

You hated Malfoy, you told yourself, but the hatred that used to run through your veins felt diluted with something else. Maybe he wasn’t that bad after all.

What would happen between you after this? Would you go back to hating each other again or did this change something between you?

Your heart sank because you knew the answer to your questions already. This changed nothing. To him, you meant nothing.

Chapter 2: The Yule Ball

Notes:

Part two, as requested (and because I also got really excited to continue this story:)). I'm also writing a third part. This feels more like a filler chapter leading up to that.

Warnings: alcohol

“Where were you last night? I didn’t see you in the Great Hall,” Hermione Granger asked you in the library the next morning.

You’d never made it to the Great Hall but had headed straight to bed after the… incident. Your extreme morning illness when you woke up this morning had served as a reminder that you hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunch and you’d practically sprinted to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Now, you had a free period and were finishing up your homework for this semester. Hermione had already done hers, of course, and was reading about things you weren’t gonna learn about until next year. She was way ahead of the curriculum already. You didn’t understand how she did it.

“I- uh- Got caught up,” you managed to get out, your mind filled with thoughts of Malfoy all of a sudden. In your head, you were back under the mistletoe and Malfoy’s eyes were piercing into you. It made your heart flutter. Oh no.

Hermione sent you a look. Her eyebrows were knitted together and her eyes told you to elaborate. “With?” she asked you when you didn’t rush to answer her unspoken question.

You chuckled nervously. “Stuff,” you answered and let your gaze fall onto your notebook. Part of you wanted to talk to Hermione about it, because frankly, you felt you’d explode if you kept it all to yourself. That other part of you remembered Malfoy’s words from last night - “not a word about this to anyone” - and while you trusted Hermione with all your other secrets, you weren’t sure you could actually trust her with this one. She would freak at you, scold you for falling for his tricks and kissing him. Or worse, she’d take it in her own hands to protect you from him and hex him as revenge.

You didn’t want that reaction from her. You had actually enjoyed the kiss. It wasn’t all Malfoy.

Truth was, you also wanted to keep the promise you made to Malfoy about not telling anyone. Your moment together felt special, sacred almost, and you didn’t want to share it with anyone, scared that it would kill what little hope you had that it meant something to the both of you.

You could feel Hermione frowning at you. She was curious, but also didn’t want to pry so when you didn’t tell her anything else, she let it go.

The rest of the period, you studied together in silence. Every now and then, you’d ask her a question, and she’d happily answer it. Hermione loved helping others with their school work, maybe as a way of showing off. It never bothered you, however, seeing as it was beneficial for you as well.

A few days passed. Your classes ended and all that was left before you would go home was the Yule ball. Since Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year, the school was also hosting the formal celebration.

Apparently, it was only open to fourth years and up - with the exception of some younger students who were lucky enough to be the dates of older students - meaning you, as a fourth year, got to go.

Excitement was in the air at Hogwarts. The conversations in the halls were louder and the atmosphere in the Great Hall was happier than usual. You felt yourself being swept along with all the joy and were looking forward to the ball in a few days.

Of course, you hadn’t yet a date, but you figured you would just go with Hermione as friends.

The same day, she came rushing to you, smile spread wide on her face. “Krum - the Viktor Krum - asked me to be his date for the Yule Ball!” she told you excitedly. You smiled at her because obviously you were happy for her - what kind of friend would you be otherwise? - but it also made your stomach fall a bit. That meant you had to go alone to the ball.

“That’s great, Mione!” you said, matching her excitement. “You said yes, I assume?”

“Well, duh,” she answered and chuckled. After a moment of silence, she added: “Who are you going with?”

When you didn’t answer - your eyes probably answered for you - she frowned. “Well, Ron is taking this girl, Padma-” - at that, your eyebrows shot up - “-yeah, I know. Good for him. But I’m not sure Harry has asked anyone yet. Maybe he could take you,” she wondered out loud.

You nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, maybe,” you said. Your thoughts had wandered again, which they’d done embarrassingly often the past days, and you found yourself wishing a certain blond would ask you to the ball. Only, that would only happen in your wildest dreams.

Your encounters with Malfoy were weird the days leading up to the ball. Everytime you ran into each other, you would bicker, throwing insults at each other as if it was second nature, but there was something between you that made all the interactions feel weird. You almost looked forward to running into him.

Today something was different.

Your eyes found Malfoy’s. It wasn't by choice. They just wandered to him as if it was the most natural thing to do. Then, you were stuck in them, all his friends around him blurring out of your vision as if Malfoy and you were the only ones existing.

His eyes had found yours as well and he held your gaze with an intensity that made you want to crumble. There was something sparkling in them, underneath the surface of hatred that he put up as a wall, and it made your breath hitch in your throat.

You hesitated for half a second - not long enough for it to get noticed by anyone but him - before you spoke. “Cat got your tongue?” you sneered, tried to act the way you usually did around him, but it felt forced.

Things weren't the same between you anymore, you realised. Ever since that night, something had been off. It was subtle, everything too much the same for anyone around you to notice, but you felt it. You were sure Malfoy felt it too, but he was annoyingly great at masking it.

This was disastrous. Somehow, hating each other would’ve been so much easier. You wanted everything to go back to that. There simply was no way you could like Malfoy.

Yet, somehow, Malfoy had planted a seed in you that night. That seed had grown in you since, had turned into a crush you weren't close to admitting you had. Something flickered across Malfoy's eyes - amusement? - and you could've sworn he was smiling, although his smile never reached his lips.

“You should be grateful he even speaks to you when he does,” a girl to your left spoke with a harsh tone. She was one of Malfoy's closest friends, Pansy Parkinson, and had clung to him all of your years at Hogwarts. One would almost go as far as to call her obsessed with the boy.

A pang of jealousy shot through you at the thought of how close the two were, but you were quick to disregard it with a mental scolding. There simply was no way you could allow yourself to be jealous of Pansy Parkinson of all people. Yet alone because of Malfoy. That would be ridiculous.

You forced a smile, made sure to make it wicked in a way that would give away how fake it was, and shot Parkinson a short side glance before your eyes found Malfoy's again.

“Yes, I truly feel honored,” you told her, your voice dripping with sarcasm, but your words were directed at Malfoy.

He continued to stare at you with an unreadable expression - and it made you feel uneasy. His eyes were narrowed at you, but behind the surface, they were challenging. You gulped under his gaze, hoped he didn’t notice the effect he had on you lately.

Then, without acknowledging you, he turned to his group of friends. “We should head to the Great Hall,” he told them casually. You felt a pang in your chest at how he could just ignore you like that. Throwing insults at each other was your thing - and suddenly, he’d gone to ignoring you. Of course, that should come as a relief, but somehow, it didn’t. It hurt.

His clique all got up from their seats and walked past you. Parksinson made sure to bump into your shoulder while she walked by, and you stumbled slightly from the impact.

“Watch it, mudblood,” she spat at you even when it was obvious she had been the one walking into you. Your frown was back on your face, and you muttered a quiet “how original” under your breath.

Malfoy had also gotten up, was about to follow his friends out of the room, but as he passed you, he added; “Wouldn’t wanna miss dinner.”

Your heart sped up and your head whipped around to face the conversation you’d been longing to have since that night, but he was already gone, out the door with the rest.

You were left standing alone in the room, dumbfounded by what he had so subtly hinted at.

Harry had happily agreed to take you to the Yule ball. It was nice to have someone you knew, somewhat, take you. That way, you didn’t have to act unnaturally charming all night or awkwardly stand in a corner with no partner. With Harry, the ball didn’t seem so scary, after all. It felt almost casual.

The only downside of being Harry’s date was that you had to inaugurate the dance floor. You valsed around the middle of the Great Hall, what felt like the entire world’s population standing on the sidelines and watching your every step - literally. You nervously held onto Harry as he swung you through the dance, around the other participant’s and their respective dates. Every now and then, you caught a glimpse of Hermione. She looked like a princess dancing with Krum. Her eyes sparkled every time you saw them.

Harry and you, on the other hand, danced awkwardly through the choreography. You felt like shrinking through the floor under the watchful eyes of everyone around you. It didn’t help that Harry barely dared touch you. It felt like you might fly out of his grip in the next turn or something.

Your nails dug into his shoulder when you swung around again. You saw the pain in his eyes and he held you tighter to prevent you from spiralling away from him.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. Another apology followed shortly after when you clumsily stepped on his foot.

You weren’t even a bad dancer. Not usually. It was just the audience that made you nervous. You lost all your coordination and turned into jelly in front of the big crowd.

Both you and Harry were extremely relieved when the dance came to an end. You smiled sheepishly up at him when the dance floor was finally flooded by everyone else. “Sorry about that,” you told him. “I’m not good with spotlights.”

Harry smiled at that. You could tell he was still embarrassed from the dance, but he didn’t think it was your fault. “I get the same way,” he told you. Then, after some awkward silence, he asked you: “Do you mind if I go find Ron?”

You were quick to shake your head no. “Go ahead.” Then you added, with a wry smile on your face: “You’ll find me in a corner somewhere. I need to hide after that dance.”

Harry chuckled. “I’ll come find you in five,” he told you before disappearing into the sea of people. You quickly got off the dance floor and made your way over to the closest wall.

Someone came to stand beside you, which caused you to turn and face the person.

He had a wicked grin on his face. “I just came to see if you were alright after that disaster of a dance,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

“Ha ha, that’s funny,” you answered sarcastically, but there was a smugness in your voice. “You should probably go and see if Harry’s alright. He’s the one who got his feet all stomped over.”

Fred smiled. “Harry’s no fun to party with. Besides, he’d never-” and he pulled out a hip-flask from the pocket inside his suit, “-help me finish this,” he stated.

You rolled your eyes again, but this time with playfulness tindering in them. “He wouldn’t, would he?” you concluded as well and took the flask from Fred before chunking some of the burning liquid. “What is it?” you asked when you gave the flask back to Fred. He took a chunk himself before quickly hiding it in his pocket again.

“Firewhiskey. Maybe I should’ve found you before the dance instead, helped you loosen up a bit,” he teased.

You shoved him away from you at that, but then your expression turned worried. “Was it really that bad?” you asked him, feeling small.

For a moment, it looked like Weasley might tell you the truth, but then he shook his head. “No. Everyone will have forgotten about it after the break anyway. Don’t fret.”

You smiled hesitantly at that. “I hope so,” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else.

“Y/n! There you are!”

Harry came shoving through the students dancing closest to you. You turned just in time to see Fred back away into the partying mass with a smug smile on his face. He winked before disappearing completely and you turned your attention back to Potter.

Your eyes felt slow and the world moved funnily around you, which made you realise that the liquid had already had its effect on you. Hopefully, Harry didn’t notice.

“Hi,” you piped when he was standing in front of you. “Found Ron?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, him and Padma. I kind of feel bad for her, to be honest. Ron’s focus isn’t even on her half the time.”

You chuckled, well aware of what he was hinting at. “Poor girl.”

Harry looked at you thoughtfully. “Wanna dance?” he asked you to change the subject.

“You haven’t had enough of me stepping on your feet?” you asked him and grinned.

“I’m sure now that everyone’s dancing, for a change, it won’t be as bad.”

So you made your way to the dance floor. At first, some upbeat music was playing. It was easy to dance along to since all you had to do was jump to the beat. Harry was actually really fun to dance with and he showed off dance moves you didn’t know how he came up with. You tried to imitate them but felt really weird doing so.

At some point, a slow song started playing. The students who didn't have a dance partner cleared the dance floor, leaving it scattered with couples and pairs.

Harry looked at you. “Do you wanna dance?” he asked you. “If you don’t feel comfortable, we can-”

You shut him up by putting your hands on his shoulders and starting to sway with the music. It felt like a bold move, but Harry was a friend. An acquaintance, at least. Besides, you had some liquor running through your system that helped you make these sorts of choices.

Harry put his hands on your waist, less hesitant than before but respectfully high, and started dancing along with you.

You danced in silence. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but it made your eyes wander to the couples around you.

Hermione was dancing with Krum a bit down the hall. They were close, her arms wrapped around his neck and her head resting on his shoulder. He held her firmly.

You spotted Ron and Padma dancing a bit from them. Ron’s gaze was focused entirely on Hermione and he had a frown on his face. He was in such a daze that he didn’t realise he repeatedly stepped on Padma’s feet. She followed his gaze and rolled her eyes at the boy before tearing from his grip and leaving him dumbfounded on the dance floor.

Seeing Hermione and Krum made you self conscious of how far away from each other you and Harry were dancing. You took a small step toward him to decrease the distance between you and readjusted your grip around his neck so that your arms were more comfortable.

When you looked up, you met Harry’s gaze. He smiled at you nervously, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was due to him being uncomfortable. But he never took a step back.

You stepped left and right to the beat, slowly turning around on the dance floor. Your eyes wandered again and you looked at the couples around you who were all dancing the same way you were.

Suddenly, your breath got caught in your throat.

Your eyes met his from across the room. He was swaying Pansy Parkinson in front of him, her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands at her waist. She seemed to be whispering something in his ear, and he nodded absentmindedly as a response, but he was looking at you. Straight at you.

His eyes looked like silver from across the room, and they pierced into you, making all the dancing couples between you blur out and disappear. You wanted to look away, you tried to force your eyes off him, but you had been captivated by his eyes again.

A pang of jealousy shot through you again, seeing him and Parkinson dance so close. As if Malfoy could read your mind, he let his hands fall down lower at her waist, all while keeping his gaze fixed on you.

Two can play that game, you thought as you pulled Harry a bit closer. Your eyes were cold looking into Malfoys, and again there was something devilious in his. He stared at you with an intensity that made you want to sink through the floor, yet at the same time you wanted to run up to him, push Parkinson out of his arms and take her place.

Malfoy leaned forward a bit, whispered something in Parkinson’s ear, all while boring his eyes into you. At his words, she chuckled. You watched as her shoulders jumped up and down from her laugh, and Malfoy’s lips twitched into a grin. He almost cocked an eyebrow at you as if waiting for your next move, but you’d had enough.

You finally managed to avert your gaze from him and focused your attention back on Harry. He looked at you with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked you, and held you a bit away from him. Maybe you’d gotten too close to him.

“Yeah, sorry. I got lost in thought,” you answered and as soon as the song ended, you hurried off the dance floor.

Chapter 3

Leaving the Great Hall, the air suddenly felt easier to breathe.

You'd danced away with Hermione to the past few songs, but really needed to get out of the crowd and had left the flooded dance floor for a much-deserved break.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty halls, filled them up in a way that made them seem less empty. It was a contrast to the Great Hall where the blasting music devoured all other sound and was the only thing you could hear.

You felt relieved to finally be out of the crowd. It drained you of energy to spend too much time among the dancing students and you needed to catch your breath for a moment.

It wasn't just the silence that was comforting, but the cooler air in the hallway, which seemed to have a higher concentration of oxygen as well, also served as a way to let you relax.

With the music seeping out of the Great Hall despite the heavy and closed doors that kept most of the sound in, you smiled to yourself when you realised you were still walking in beat.

The footsteps echoed both in front of and behind you and it almost felt as if you were chasing someone down the hall - but you knew it to be empty. Still, you allowed yourself to skit a few steps before going back to walking normally again.

You hadn't even noticed him, your mind too occupied with moving your legs in beat to the music, so you jumped slightly when he spoke to you.

“Took you long enough,” he told you casually. At that, you narrowed your eyes at him. Somehow, you were still petty over what happened at the dance floor earlier tonight; how close he'd danced with Parkinson. It seemed, almost, as if he’d done it just to provoke you.

“Wasn't aware that I was supposed to be somewhere,” you shot back, voice challenging.

Malfoy didn't answer. Instead, you watched his eyes travel down your form before coming up to meet your eyes again. “Nice dress,” he told you in that same casual manner as before.

It made your eyes want to wander over him, to really check him out as well, but you refrained from it. You already knew he looked good. Who were you kidding? He always did.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly uncomfortable.

Two days ago, you would've swooned at being this close to and alone with him, but now- You were annoyed at him for some reason.

Were you jealous? Was that clenching in your chest because he’d danced with Parkinson tonight? No. Obviously, it wasn't jealousy. You couldn't be jealous.

It was probably annoyance because he was here when you'd left the Great Hall to be alone. You needed to breathe, be away from everyone for some time, and here he was stepping in your way. That must be it.

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up slightly when you didn't compliment him back, but the smirk on his lips indicated that it didn't bother him.

You sighed when he didn't say anything else. “Why are you here, Malfoy?” you asked him, feeling the irritation raise in you.

The smugness in his eyes told you you weren't gonna like his answer. “What? I'm not allowed to get some fresh air?”

You rolled your eyes, for some reason not buying it although it was the exact same reason you had for being out here. “Whatever,” you muttered and moved to move past him. You figured you’d go for a walk around the empty school before heading back.

The irritation in you skyrocketed when he stepped in your way. The anger running through your veins weirdly harmonized with your fluttering heart.

You stopped dead in your tracks when he was suddenly blocking your way and you narrowed your eyes at him again, making sure they shot invisible daggers his way.

“Move out of the way, Malfoy,” you muttered. You were not in the mood tonight. You really wanted to be left alone.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows again, unconvinced, and that awful smirk was playing on his lips.

“I wanna be alone,” you deadpanned when he didn't move. The annoyance in you made you want to smack him in the face.

“The longing gazes you were sending me on the dance floor suggested otherwise,” he stated. You could feel the tension in the air between you. If you reached out and touched it you'd probably get a shock from the electricity that seemed to be sizzling between you even when you stood feet apart.

Unable to look away from him, you focused on making your eyes look unbothered. You weren’t sure if you succeeded or if they actually came off as embarrassed. Your cheeks felt flushed. “If I recall correctly,” you started, your voice not as steady as you liked it to be, “I caught you staring.”

Again, you found yourself growing angry with yourself for letting him have that effect on you. He'd been your bully for more than three years, for goodness sake. It didn't make sense to you how lately you'd forgotten about that fact every time you'd seen him.

Malfoy chuckled and his laugh made you warm inside. Not that you'd admit that.

“How convenient your eyes were searching for mine, then,” he fired back, also taking a step toward you.

Instinctively, you'd have taken a step back, but you felt the need to hold your ground. You wouldn't let him have that effect on you.

“I wasn't-” you started to protest, but your words were cut off when he took another step toward you. He was standing alarmingly close. You could feel his breath in your face. It tickled when a strand of hair moved a bit with each blow of air.

You chuckled nervously, well aware of the situation you'd ended up in. If someone found you here, you were both doomed.

Malfoy was staring down at you with that fire in his eyes. You knew exactly what his look meant and it made you extremely nervous. His whole presence did.

“What are you-” you asked, but your question hadn't time to leave you before Malfoy had closed the distance between you.

His lips crashed onto yours before you could react. He kissed you with the same hunger he'd kissed you a week ago, but this time it felt more dangerous. Maybe it was because someone could leave the Great Hall at any moment and find you both. Maybe it was because your heart sped up more than last time, because your thoughts had wandered to Malfoy the past week more times than you’d admit - even to yourself - and because you’d longed to kiss him again.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t all because of some stupid prank - this was real.

At some point, you’d moved from the middle of the hall. You gasped when your back smacked against the wall, surprised by the impact. Even when the shock wave shot through you, Malfoy’s lips didn’t leave yours. They were glued to your lips - just as much as your lips were glued to his.

The kiss was aggressive, almost more desperate than last time. Maybe Malfoy had thought of you like you’d thought of him. Your heart fluttered at the thought.

Malfoy’s hand found its way behind your neck, held your head steady so he could kiss you forcefully without you moving away from him, and his other hand came to support your leg as you threw it around him. You used it to press him toward you, while your hands were entangled in his hair. It would be all messy once you finally let go of each other - if you could manage such a thing. 

Your entire body tickled when Malfoy sucked at your lip before moving from your face to leave kisses down your neck. The sensation was otherworldly - where his lips were touching you, you felt your skin ignite - and you felt your breath get stuck in your throat when he found your soft spot. It made you come to your senses and you moved away from him, instead smacking your lips against his again and taking control of the kiss. You could feel Malfoy’s surprise, which made you grin into the kiss.

When you both pulled away, your breathing was heavy and loud. Suddenly, the fresh air in the hall wasn’t enough to provide you of the oxygen you needed anymore.

You looked up at Malfoy. His face was dimly lit due to the low light, and his facial features were shadowed in a way that made him appear as a stranger in front of you.

Wasn’t he a stranger, though? You didn’t recognize the person standing before you. This wasn’t the Malfoy you knew. That Malfoy would never kiss you. Let alone kiss you twice.

Although, you had to admit, you preferred this Malfoy over the one you used to know.

His fiery eyes were staring down at you, his chest heaving up and down. He was panting, and it looked like so much was going on behind his eyes. Looking into them, past the lust and desire, you saw his mind working to make sense of the situation.

You got it. Your mind was the same. None of this made sense. You didn’t make sense. Yet, everytime you kissed, it felt like it was the most natural thing, like your lips belonged together.

“This isn’t good,” he told you, his lips still dangerously close to yours, and his voice low.

You nodded, felt shivers run down your spine when you felt his breath in your face. “Disastrous,” you agreed, your answer barely audible.

His lips hovered above yours, and you longed for him to lean in a bit more so that you could taste them again, but neither of you closed the distance.

It did things to you to have his lips so close to yours. They felt teasing, and you didn't like it one bit. It made you feel at loss of control.

You lost control around him, felt yourself swept into the storm of desire that whirled around you. Not good.

Your stomach churned in a funny way at how close you were. You could feel the warmth from Malfoy, his body heat radiating off of him. Still, the air between you felt cold and it worked as a reminder of where you weren’t touching.

And even where you were - he still had his hand behind your neck, his other arm now draped around you, and your arms flung around his neck - it didn’t feel like he was close enough. You wanted him closer in ways not possible.

“What are we doing?” he whispered. Just a few millimeters closer and you’d be kissing again. You could just lean forward a bit and close the distance between you. It felt like an invisible force pulling you toward him, begging you to smack your lips against his again. But you didn’t. You caught the seriousness in his voice, hidden behind the tension that danced around you like mist. You also wanted answers.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. Your entire body screamed at you in resistance when you leaned back slightly to better meet Malfoy’s eyes. Your gaze was soft, confused, but left in it was also all the desire you’d submitted to moments ago.

Something shifted in Malfoy’s gaze, and he looked almost… regretful? Reality struck you both, pulled the rug out from under you and had you tumble down. It felt like you were crashing.

You'd fallen into this trap once again, given into the magnetic pull that grabbed ahold of you every time you got close.

Then, he blinked, and you watched his eyes go back to their usual mischievousness. The smirk was back on his lips. “It doesn’t matter,” he concluded, and you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. “As long as no one knows, it’s fine,” he told you.

You hoped the halls were too dimly lit for the hurt that flashed across your eyes to be visible to Malfoy. The smirk on his lips didn’t even falter one bit.

Notes:

A bit shorter than the previous parts.

I feel like this is turning into an entire story...

Chapter 4

You were happy to go on Christmas break. You enjoyed the time with your family and found comfort in being back in the muggle world for a few weeks. Even though Hogwarts felt more and more like your home, it was still comforting to be back in a world where everything made sense . There was no defying the laws of physics, no magic - and no annoying Malfoys.

You were also happy to get away from everything. Somehow, being away from Hogwarts - and being away from Malfoy - had made you come to your senses… somewhat.

You’d realised that kissing Malfoy twice was insane and simply couldn’t occur any more. You’d been swept along by the Christmas spirit. The Weasleys’ prank had gotten too far, that was it. Coming back to Hogwarts in January, you were positive you wouldn’t fall for it again.

You’d managed to avoid Malfoy on the train. Even in the Great Hall, you never cast him a glance. When walking to classes the next day, you avoided his clique best you could. Usually, you wouldn’t be bothered by them - after all, you were good at insulting them back if they ever decided to throw insults your way - but now, you didn’t want to face them. Especially not Malfoy.

Then, of course, he thought of you as a secret anyway. You doubted he’d be any happier to meet you than you were to meet him.

The day after that, you also successfully avoided Malfoy. Life seemed almost normal - back to what it had been like some weeks before the break - except for the fact you weren’t tormented by him.

Three days after the break was the first time you ran into Malfoy and his clique. Parkinson was quick to shoot daggers your way, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Zabini, another one of his friends, barely took notice of you. You always thought he felt he was too good to even acknowledge you. Not that you complained, it meant one less bully.

You’d run into them in the hallway outside of the Great Hall, right before lunch. 

What struck you the most was the smirk hidden in Malfoy’s eyes. To anyone who wasn’t you, his expression was blank. To you, it was all a facade to hide the amusement he shot your way. He narrowed his eyes slightly, appeared annoyed to be in your presence, but his lips twitched slightly.

Having come to your senses during the break, you narrowed your eyes at him too. Unlike in Malfoy’s, there was nothing suggestive in yours, and you held his gaze while irritation started pumping through your veins.

You didn’t like how he’d fooled you before the break. It made you loathe him even more.

“Move,” a high pitched voice brought you out of your trance. Parkinson shoved past you, and again you found yourself stumbling because of her.

You bored your eyes into her back as she walked to the Great Hall. The irritation that had built up in you was directed at her for the moments you followed her with your gaze, until she disappeared into the hall and wasn’t visible for you to see anymore. When Zabini walked past you, to your surprise not taking the small detour to shove you as well, your eyes shot back to look at Malfoy - who, again, was the last to walk past you.

Once he did, his eyebrows were slightly raised, indicating confusion before his expression was confident and amused again.

“You must be desperate to always get into my way,” he mumbled. “ Mudblood ”. He added the last bit a few hundreds of a second too late, and there was no mockery to the insult making you believe it wasn’t actually one but rather a cover if someone happened to eavesdrop on your conversation. But there was no one who could - you were alone in the hall. 

Your heart sped up at the realisation - and your eyes darkened at that fact. It made you even more angry at Malfoy, for some reason, that he still had this effect on you.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d rolled your eyes. “You wish,” you muttered back, not in the mood to play the games Malfoy was - because that was all that this was to him; games. You were just a piece that could be thrown away once he got bored, and you weren’t gonna accept that anymore.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows a bit more, and that awful smirk still danced on his lips. It widened once he realised where you were staring.

Your eyes shot back up to meet his eyes and you narrowed them further.

To your surprise, Malfoy didn’t tease you for it. Instead, he started backing away. 

Of course he would. It would appear strange to his friends if he didn’t follow after them directly.

You watched him until he swung around and disappeared into the Great Hall as well. It took you a few moments to compose yourself, the irritation draining you of energy as it left your system.

A few days passed before you ran into Malfoy again.

It was almost curfew, but you were too alert to even attempt sleeping. That’s how you found yourself wandering the halls. Part of you was scared you’d run into Filch, or Mrs Norris, but you also knew he couldn’t give you detention unless you were out after curfew - which you weren’t. Only almost.

It was comforting that the castle was quiet. You liked how the shadows stretched from the walls in the hallways, how your footsteps echoed around you, and how the night air glistened in the moonlight that shot through the windows. 

Walking around at this time made you feel at peace.

Your ears perked when you caught a sound you weren’t familiar with. At first, it was very subtle and you wondered if it was only your imagination. Then, you heard it again and your heart sped up little by little.

It sounded like another pair of footsteps. They mixed with your own, but their beat was in disharmony with yours. At first, they sounded far away, but they got louder and louder, indicating that someone was moving toward you.

Your heart mixed with the steps by sending out fast beats that drummed in your ears. You started walking faster, tried to avoid whoever was chasing you.

When the person after you seemed to be only a corner behind, you started sprinting down the halls. So did the other person.

Your stressed footsteps echoed in the hallway louder than before, and the sound no longer sent you comfort. It made your heart race faster.

The panic rose in you when you could no longer locate the other person. They didn’t appear to be behind you anymore. No, their footsteps had disappeared all together. You were alone again.

You stopped running. Your lungs ached from the sprint you’d done and your heavy breathing filled the hall like your footsteps had done moments before.

“I never took you for the type to be out after curfew,” a voice said behind you, and you spun around only to have your heart speed up in your chest again - for all the different reasons.

Malfoy wasn’t smirking, like you’d expected him to, but was looking at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to figure you out.

“It’s not after curfew,” you answered him.

“It is.”

It was? You must’ve lost track of time. Why did you feel embarrassed all of a sudden?

You narrowed your eyes at Malfoy, but to your own surprise, you weren’t irritated with him. You were confused.

“Then, why are you here?” you asked, genuinely interested in the answer.

Something shifted in Malfoy’s eyes. They lacked the amusement you were used to seeing in them. They held something else, something unreadable. You weren’t sure how you felt about being looked at that way. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” he asked you and his question caught you off guard. It was too direct. His voice was plain, yet demanding. The intensity in his eyes made you uneasy. You still couldn’t figure out what was in them.

You gulped. “No,” you told him. It almost sounded like a question, like you weren’t sure about the answer yourself. Your voice was quiet, and you knew he didn’t buy your lie in the slightest. Why it was suddenly so difficult to lie to him, you didn’t understand. What surprised you even more was how difficult it was telling him the truth.

Malfoy’s eyes darkened. He looked almost… disappointed? That couldn’t be right.

“You have,” he stated. There was something in his voice that made you want to sink through the floor. 

What had changed in a matter of seconds? Why were you suddenly not annoyed with him anymore? Why did you feel… bad?

You felt small under his intense gaze. It held so much you couldn’t wrap your head around. It felt intimidating. You gulped again.

Suddenly, the shadows around you didn’t give you comfort anymore. They helped amplify the mysterious atmosphere around you. Malfoy’s facial expressions were half hidden in them. Maybe that’s why he was so difficult to read.

Your heart sped up when he took a step toward you, but you couldn’t take a step back. Your feet were glued to the ground.

“Why?” he pressed. His voice was calm - too calm - and it sent shivers down your spine. The air felt thick, dangerous. The hair on your arms was standing up. Everything around you felt cold all of a sudden.

Your eyes flickered to the ground. You were unable to hold his gaze any longer. It was too intense. You felt yourself crumble under it.

You wanted to scream at him to leave you alone. You couldn’t stand being in his presence anymore. He made you miserable. You wanted to tell him the truth, that yes , you’d been avoiding him , but all you were able to form were lies.

Somewhere, deep in you, you found the confidence that had fled you moments ago, and you forced your eyes off the ground again to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” you told him. Your voice was controlled, composed. It almost made you believe the lie yourself. 

You could tell Malfoy didn’t believe it. He continued staring at you with those cold eyes. You wondered where the fire that used to burn in them had gone.

His gaze hardened, but you didn’t falter like last time. You narrowed your eyes at him instead, sent him a look that said: what are you gonna do about it?

Malfoy stared at you for a few more seconds. The silence was unbearable. It enhanced the fevery atmosphere around you.

His eyes narrowed at you and he took yet another step toward you. “What changed?”

You held his gaze with the same intensity he had been looking at you moments ago. Part of you couldn’t believe he actually asked you that question. To you, the answer was obvious. This time, you told him the truth. “I came to my senses,” you said and shrugged. 

The atmosphere changed. It became a different type of intense. Something shifted in Malfoy’s eyes again. Something flashed across them. You couldn’t tell what it was.

Malfoy took a step forward again. He was coming dangerously close. Usually, it ignited something in you, but this time felt different. His eyes weren’t burning with fire tonight but they were ice cold. The air around you wasn’t electric, it was chill.

Your breath felt caught in your throat, your heart beating wildly in your chest. Then, Malfoy huffed and the atmosphere around you shifted yet again.

“You came to your senses ,” he repeated your words, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement again, like he didn’t quite believe that. It made you relax - not that you’d show how afraid you’d been of him moments ago - and you felt something in you shift as well. Your eyes were narrowed, but they were also challenging. 

You’d lost control. You’d lost the battle in yourself. The anger you so badly wanted to reek from you was gone. Left was a nervousness you weren’t used to and a desire that Malfoy should take that last step toward you and crash his lips onto yours again.

“Yes,” you answered him, but your voice wasn’t steady. The - now - lie you tried to tell wasn’t near believable, and you weren’t convinced yourself. You tried to keep the embarrassment in your eyes from giving you away, but you failed miserably. Malfoy’s eyes became even more amused when seeing you struggle to compose yourself, and the smirk tugged at his lips in its usual manner.

He stepped forward a bit more and your heart raced in your chest at how close you were. You could tell he wanted to kiss you from the look in his eyes. His gaze would wander down to your lips every other second, but he didn’t close the gap between you. 

Your heart sank when you realised he was only teasing you. You narrowed your eyes at him, felt the disappointment flood you, and your lungs hurt from aspirating it. Even when your entire body was in disagreement with your brain, you felt the need to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You leaned in slightly - and could see the surprise in his eyes when you made a move - but you dodged his lips. “I thought you would as well,” you said in his ear slowly, making sure to brush your lips slightly against his ear in the process. “I figured you’d be reminded of your perfect reputation and not want anything to do with someone like me after the break.”

When you pulled back, you caught the disappointment in his eyes, but he quickly masked it with amusement. You could tell he enjoyed the game you were playing.

“What’s the fun in that?” he huffed. “Besides, reputations don’t have to be replicas of the truth.”

This made you snort. “Only if no one ever knows , right?” you asked him, reminding him of his own words. Somehow, you also managed to remind yourself of why you should stay away from him in the process, and you took a step back, the playfulness gone.

Malfoy noticed the shift in you. Hurt flashed across his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. You didn’t think he was capable of such an emotion.

“You know it’s not that simple,” he started. His words felt calculated, as if he was choosing them carefully.

Part of you knew he was right. You’d heard the pressure pureblood families put on their children. That didn’t mean you understood it. In your eyes, he still had a choice. It wasn’t like they’d disown him if he lived a little.

“You know what? Yes , Malfoy. It is that simple,” you told him, annoyance dripping from your voice. Where did that come from?

The atmosphere shifted again. The look in Malfoy’s eyes changed. He looked disappointed, irritated almost. 

“Of course you wouldn’t understand,” he muttered, but it barely reached your ears. You were too annoyed at his lack of integrity to pick it up.

You rolled your eyes at whatever he’d just said, but whatever response you had planned hadn’t time to roll off your tongue before you were interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

You met Malfoy’s eyes, were expecting the stress that surely was evident in yours, but to your surprise his eyes were cold and controlled.

“You’re on your own for this one,” Malfoy told you, his voice icy. “Wouldn’t want to be caught past curfew with a mudblood .”

It felt like someone had stabbed you in your chest and twisted the dagger. The way he pronounced mudblood , with hate dripping from it, was worse than old times. It felt more real than it ever had before, like it wasn’t just some rehearsed insult but like he meant it from the bottom of his heart.

You stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds. You tried to hide the hurt in your eyes, but to no avail, you were sure.

Malfoy held your gaze, and you didn’t recognize him in his eyes. You did, somewhat, because he looked at you the way he used to in the past - and yet, not quite. He looked at you like you were the filth he’d claimed you to be for three and a half years - but for the first time since you started Hogwarts, he seemed to believe his own words.

Then, he walked past you, made sure to hit your shoulder in the process and you stumbled a bit. When you caught your balance again, you were alone in the hallway. Malfoy was long gone, his footsteps somehow already lost in the silence of the night, and another pair of footsteps was echoing louder and louder - probably Filch making his way toward you.

You sprinted off toward the common room, not daring to look back or think about what had just occurred with Malfoy. Hurt still lingered from his words, and you fought back all emotions that threatened to drown you before you’d fled into the safety of your dorm.

Chapter 5

You didn't want to admit it, but you were confused. Almost a little hurt.

You'd gone back to Hogwarts with the mindset of ignoring Malfoy and not letting him affect you like that anymore, yet somehow, you'd fallen right back into the trap. All it took was one look into his eyes and you were falling. They pulled you in, like they always did, and you felt the air get sucked out of your lungs whenever your eyes met.

There was an undeniable chemistry between you, and everytime you found yourself alone with him, the intensity of it came swirling around you like a storm. You couldn't escape it even if you wanted to, somehow always stuck in the eye of it. 

Trying to convince yourself otherwise, that there wasn't even a tiniest bit of you that liked the way he'd made you feel, became more difficult with each day that passed.

But things weren't the same between you anymore.

It was a week since your late night encounter in the hallway. It was a week since whatever it was that you two had was ripped apart. You didn't even know why all of a sudden his behaviour had changed. It wasn't like him to care anyway.

The past week had been hell. If you thought your first years at Hogwarts had been bad, you clearly didn't know what Malfoy was capable of.

It confused you because it made you despise him - all while your thoughts wandered back to those intense yet vulnerable moments you'd had. You couldn't wrap your head around what he wanted from you. Yet alone where you stood in the midst of it all.

It seemed like every chance he got, he was cursing you out or sending hexes your way. It was awful, you felt played with and wanted nothing more but to give him a taste of his own medicine - but you knew better than to hex him back. Even if you hated to admit it, convinced that there was no difference between muggle borns and purebloods, you knew that his family held power - power you couldn't begin to compare with or stand a chance against.

It went to the extent where you tried to avoid him and his clique altogether. You'd never let him affect you that way before, had always been quick to shoot insults back as a defense, but no matter what you said to him these days, he always had a better comeback - or hexed you. Sometimes, the effects wouldn't wear off until hours later.

But something felt off with the way he treated you. It was as if he was pushing himself to, and as if he wasn't just angry with you but with himself as well. It seemed like you were merely caught in the crossfire as he tried to make sense of his own emotions.

Maybe that was why you couldn't find it in you to hate him despite everything he did. Maybe those moments between you, before Christmas, had made you see a part of him which he hid from the world, and which made you understand him better. Maybe that's why you found yourself defending him even when he didn't deserve it.

You were studying in the library with Hermione. You had been studying with her all week, but none of the times you'd discussed Malfoy. That was probably why you got so surprised when Hermione brought him up.

“Is it only me or has Malfoy been worse to you than usual lately?” she asked you and looked up from her notebook.

You didn't know why you felt the urge to defend him, or disregard her question, or anything to get the focus off your clear hardship with Malfoy, almost as if it was supposed to be a secret. Perhaps it felt like one because there were secrets that had led up to this - things neither of you could talk about. Frankly, whatever had happened before break and last week between you was embarrassing for the both of you. And yet, you couldn't help but wish you were back in those moments. Although, with how things had turned out between you, you knew there was no chance at that.

“I don't know, has he?” you answered after some time, scratching your neck nervously.

Hermione studied you. She had that frown on her face that she always got when she wasn't convinced, and was trying to figure it out by herself. “He has,” she stated after some time. “He's meaner than usual. And hexes? Since when do you hex each other?”

“I haven't hexed anyone,” you quickly defended yourself, to which Hermione rolled her eyes because that had never been her point. “Look, maybe he's just stressed and has to take it out on someone,” you continued. The explanation seemed cheap. Not even you were buying it.

Again, Hermione was quiet for a bit. “Sure. Like that's the reason.” She set down her pencil - you hadn't even noticed her holding it still - and she sighed. “Have you done anything to insult him?” A smirk tugged at her lips when she saw your pointed look, and she added: “I mean, insulted him more than usual.”

Had you? “No. I haven't. He's just being childish.”

At that, Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she chuckled. “Well, I'm not arguing that.” Her smile fell and she grew serious again. “But seriously, if it gets too bad, you tell me. I know a few hexes myself, you know. And so does Harry and Ron. We've got your back.”

You smiled. “Thank you, but I can manage. He's going to grow tired of this in a few weeks anyway.” He would, right?

“Whatever you say.” Hermione gathered her things and got up. “I'm gonna head back to the dorm.”

You'd decided to stay some time more. The only downside of being hexed occasionally was the missed study time, so you had a bit to catch up on.

Once Hermione was gone, the library turned awfully quiet. You were the last student left.

The library was bright at first, but after a few minutes the lights went out. You looked up from your book, swept your gaze over the shelves around you. They grew from the floor like walls of a dark maze.

You'd actually planned on staying longer, but suddenly you grew ill at ease, and you gathered all of your things to get up and leave.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of footsteps. You froze and tried to quiet your suddenly rapid breathing. You almost held your breath.

The footsteps echoed in the library, the sound slithering through the maze like a snake.

Your heart sped up. Your thoughts wandered. The last time you'd been alone at night and heard footsteps, it'd been him. Why did you kind of wish it was? What would you even say to each other? He hated you, right?

But the footsteps got quieter and quieter. The person was leaving, not coming your way.

The door to the library closed. You waited a few more moments to be sure the person left before you finally released your breath. The paralyze let you out of its grasp and you hurried out of the library as well. 

Another week passed. Nothing changed with Malfoy - except you got better at avoiding him. You learnt all of his routines, when he had which classes and what he did in between them.

Some days you managed to stay entirely clear of him, only seeing him from afar in the Great Hall - where he couldn't touch you. You made sure to always leave after him and to check twice when walking out of the hall as to not end up in his reach was he to wait for you.

He never did.

Perhaps, he wanted to avoid you as much as you did him. You didn't know why that hurt so much.

Part of you wanted to confront him about it. That other part - the sane part - was happy he finally left you alone and stopped messing with your emotions. He had done nothing but bully you since you began at Hogwarts. There was no way you could like him.

One night, you couldn't sleep. Your mind was occupied with thoughts of missed out school work, upcoming assignments, missed deadlines, and… Malfoy.

In the past, you'd never gone out after curfew, but tonight you felt the need to. You needed to clear your head.

You slowed your pace when you walked through the common room, studied the sofas and armchairs and considered staying in one of them, but you needed air - fresh air - so you continued out into the hallway. The Astronomy tower felt like the perfect spot to clear your head. 

You tiptoed through the hallways and up the many stairs that led to the tower. It was nerve-wracking to be out in the empty halls at night, not only because you might run into Mr Filch and end up with months of detention, but because the dim hallways had an eeriness to them. You threw your head around to beware of your surroundings, listened after any indication that you weren't alone, but failed to shake the paranoia despite not seeing anyone.

At last, you reached the top of the stairs and instantly felt relieved to see the night sky staring down at you. You walked over to the railing, sat down at the edge and let your legs dangle over the grounds below you. You gripped the railing, tight - the height frightened you slightly, even though it also made you feel at peace to be so high and have a bird's view of your surroundings - and the metal was cold from the chill night air.

The sky was clear above you, and the ground below was like a dark undulating sea. You could barely make out the Black Lake or the Forbidden Forest. Everything melted togehter in the black night.

For the first time in weeks, it felt like you could breathe.

You stared up at the stars until your neck ached, tried to find the patterns in the sky that you'd learnt about in astronomy.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a voice spoke from behind you. You jumped slightly at the sound, and scurried to your feet. You recognized the voice all too well.

“Malfoy,” you greeted him coldly. You made sure to take a step away from the railing - in case he tried to throw you over the edge or something. Not that you thought he would. You weren't even sure he had it in him to kill anyone. Although, you weren't about to try that thesis.

Malfoy just raised his eyebrows slightly at you, unconvinced yet cold, and he walked over to lean at the railing - right where you'd been sitting in peace moments ago.

He didn't speak. He just stood there, looked at the sky above him and the grounds below like you'd been doing moments ago. Somehow, it made you annoyed that he'd come and just took your spot, disrupted what little peace you'd found.

“What do you want?” you asked him. The irritation was evident in your voice, for sure effects of how he'd treated you lately. 

Malfoy took his time to turn around and face you, all while your irritation grew. When he met your gaze, his expression was tired and emotionless.

“What? You're not gonna hex me?” you continued. Your voice was angry, challenging, as you tried to get a reaction out of him. You didn't like how confusing he was. Had it been any other day of the week, he'd thrown himself at you, called you names or raised his wand. It didn't make sense to you why he just stood there.

His eyes narrowed, but to your surprise, he just turned around after some time and continued staring out into the night.

You huffed. “Did you suddenly grow a conscience, or what?” you asked him when he didn't answer. This made Malfoy's head whip back around and he sent you a deadly glare.

“Maybe I just don't feel like wasting my energy on someone like you,” he told you in annoyance. “Be happy while it lasts, Mudblood .”

Ah, there it was again. The insults.

Your mind was working overtime trying to figure out why all of a sudden he wasn't making your life a living hell. Two weeks ago, you'd not thought this much about it, but tonight, it didn't make sense. Was it because none of his friends were here? Maybe he didn't have to prove himself to anyone. Or was it because he was too tired to care right now? It was in the middle of the night, after all.

You rolled your eyes at him, even when he couldn't see it. “How noble of you,” you muttered.

The situation grew awkward. You were standing a few feet from each other. He'd taken your spot and you were now staring at him - at where you would be sitting if it wasn't for him. He was annoying the last bit of you.

It wasn't just because he was an asshole who dedicated his life to bullying you, but he was also really confusing. He played with your feelings, and you hated that you hadn't control of them.

“What's your deal anyway?” you asked him when you couldn't take it anymore. Your blood was boiling at this point. You couldn't stand even the sight of him. Maybe you should be the one to throw him over the railing.

Malfoy whipped around for the third time. “What?” he snapped as if you'd just interrupted his important thoughts. He'd been the one interrupting you, he had no right to be angry.

“What's your deal?” you repeated. You made sure to not let your eyes flicker from his. There was no way you were letting him win this fight.

The air had grown thick with the anger between you.

“What's my deal ?” Malfoy asked in disbelief. You squinted your eyes at him as if urging him to continue. “My deal is that you won't leave me alone.”

This made you huff. “Right. Because it's not been you who's chased me around the halls these past weeks.”

“I've not-” Malfoy started, but you cut him off.

“Because it's not you who've dedicated their life to make my life a living hell.”

Malfoy stared at you. You couldn't decipher the look he was giving you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he said lowly.

This made you roll your eyes. “No, Malfoy. I don't get it. I don't get why you treat me like shit for years , and then kiss me out of nowhere. And then, why you, all of a sudden, decide that there is nothing going on between us, and start treating me like I mean nothing to you anymore. I don't get any of this, but please, do enlighten me.” You held his gaze even when you wanted to look away. Your eyes were probably shooting daggers his way. Something sizzled between you, but this time it wasn't a tension neither of you could explain but rather an electrifying irritation.

Malfoy held your gaze with the same determination, his look not faltering in the slightest. Then his eyebrows knitted together - only a bit, and almost not noticeable unless you focused on him, which you happened to do - as if he was having a debate in his head.

“Were you only using me?” you asked him when he'd been silent for some time. Your voice was barely above a whisper, as if you were afraid of his answer. Were you afraid? It would make sense if he had only been using you. He was selfish, after all. It felt like the only reasonable explanation to any of this. The opposite somehow felt more scary, that he hadn't been using you, even though you hoped for that to be true. “Because that's just cruel,” you added when he didn't deny it instantly.

For a heartbeat, it looked like he might actually deny it, tell you that ‘no, he wasn't using you. Whatever was going on between you, he felt it too’, but the flash in his eyes was gone in an instant.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at you. He huffed in disbelief. “Wow, you really don't get it,” he muttered, but you just rolled your eyes at him.

“No, so will you tell me what the heck is going on?” you snapped. You'd had it with him.

The anger rose in Malfoy's eyes. It looked like someone had lit a fire in them, and the fire was catching, growing more reckless with each second that passed.

“You won't leave me alone, is what's going on!” Malfoy shouted at you. His voice echoed in the night, and you were sure anyone awake heard him. But it seemed only the two of you existed at the moment.

You felt your own anger rise. He'd already told you ‘you wouldn't leave him alone’, but he'd been the one chasing you around. He had no reason to be mad at you like that.

“You- You're everywhere, okay? Wherever I go, it's like you're there, following me, haunting me,” he continued, his voice loosing its strength and growing lower and lower with each word. “You're like a shadow in my mind, and it messes with me, okay? It's like I can't stop thinking about you.” His voice cracked a bit at the end. Your gaze softened. The anger had dissipated.

“Whenever I'm in a room, I find my eyes searching for yours, and sometimes I think I see you in a crowd, but it's just my mind playing tricks on me. And I can't sleep at night. Why? Because you're in my head, keeping me awake.”

His eyes were burning holes in you, and you could hear the anger in his voice, although you weren't sure at whom it was directed.

Without thinking, you took a step forward. Malfoy took a step back, found himself pressed against the cold railing.

He didn't like how your gaze was soft on him. It was like he'd imagined it all this time, but he didn't like it one bit. It made him feel vulnerable.

He had to push you away before you got too close again. He couldn't let you get close.

His eyes narrowed at you and your heart sped up when you saw the hate in them - directed toward you. But was it really hate? Or was it just that facade that he put up whenever people got too close?

“But it doesn't work out,” he told you finally. His voice was venomous, and it made you recoil slightly. “You're not from my world. Your world and mine aren’t compatible. My deal is that I can't stand you. You're snaky, you know that? You creep in and you poison my mind, your venom spreading through my veins and leaving me all weak. You expect me to be okay with it, but I can't just sit around and have you control me like that.”

It was like Malfoy ran out of air. Suddenly, everything got awfully quiet, except for Malfoy's panting. He'd been winding himself up during his rant. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, tried to make sense of everything he told you.

The air felt much colder than it had been before. It felt like it had dropped several degrees in just the past minutes.

You didn't know what to respond. Instead, you just stood there quietly, looked at him.

Your heart raced for some inexplicable reason. 

Then, something shifted in you, puzzle pieces falling into place. Your gaze grew cold.

“You don't get to do that,” you told him. “You don't get to make this about you, or convince yourself that this is my fault. You're not the victim here.”

Malfoy, who'd gone back to looking out into the night, turned around slowly. 

“Gosh, you’re so full of yourself!” you exclaimed. “You can't just go around and kiss people and then tell them it's their fault you're feeling some kind of way!”

“But it is your fault!” Malfoy roared back. If no one was awake to hear his first shout, they sure were now. “There is no way I could like a mudblood like yourself. You must've done something to me- tricked me- something-”

His shoulders slumped down in defeat, his voice losing its strength. “This is so wrong. Don't you see that?”

Your emotions were on a rollercoaster. Your anger had ceased again, and all that was left was hurt. Your heart ached in a funny way.

“No, Malfoy. I don't see where this is wrong,” you told him, but your voice wasn't accusing anymore. You were tired. You were done. “If you feel something for me, what could possibly hold you back?”

Malfoy didn't step back when you walked over and sat down at the edge again. You let the night engulf you, and little by little, calmness took over again.

“It's not that simple,” Malfoy whispered after what felt like forever. You'd almost forgotten he was standing behind you. To you it was that simple. It made you think. Maybe you really were from different worlds. Maybe you didn't understand. 

Your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

You flew to your feet in panic. Malfoy met your gaze, as panicked as you were, and the both of you looked around for an escape route, or somewhere to hide. 

But it was already too late.

Before either of you could get anywhere, Snape came into view. 

He gave you both a stern look, and you were sure it was supposed to be a disappointed one, but he came off as expressionless.

“Mr Malfoy, Miss L/n,” he greeted you coldly. “Did I interrupt something?” He didn't leave you any room to answer before he continued. “I am sure you are well aware it is past curfew.”

“Professor Snape, we lost track of-” you started, but your pathetic attempt at an excuse was cut short by the unconvinced look he gave you.

“Snape, it is not what it looks-” Malfoy started, but Snape just sent him a plain look, telling him he couldn't care less, which made Malfoy shut himself up. You wished you had that ability.

“I do not care for any weak excuses. Much less do I care what this-" , Snape gesticulated at the both of you with a swift motion of his hand, as if stirring a pot midair "-is." If you didn't know better, you'd laughed at how silly it looked. “You'll have plenty of time to figure that out in detention. But do it amongst yourselves. Leave me out of it.”

Notes:

I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I had exams this and last week so I've been stressing out about them. Pray I did well hehe:)

Thanks for your patience and hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Also, thank you for your comments and for leaving kudos, it means a lot!<3

Chapter 6

Notes:

Hello!

I'm so sorry for not updating this in like a month. I couldn't really figure out where I wanted to take the story and nothing I wrote felt right.

Today, I felt like I couldn't put it off any longer, and I have a somewhat idea in mind that I hope you'll like!

It must've been because of Malfoy's shouting that Snape heard you and decided to climb all the stairs up to the Astronomy tower in the middle of the night to see what the fuss was about. That must've been the reason why he found you and Malfoy, in a grumpy mood as usual, leading up to your detention.

Couldn’t Malfoy have just kept his voice down?

It was Malfoy's fault you were in this mess. If he hadn't come up and disturbed you, you'd just gone back to bed an hour later, and not had to spend your free Saturday in detention. With Malfoy of all people. 

Not to mention, it was Snape’s detention, and they were known to be the worst. Not that you'd know, you had no experience with detentions. It made you wonder why he hadn't let you off the hook, but then again, it was Snape we were talking about, and you weren't exactly his favourite student considering your struggles with potions. 

Part of you wondered why you hadn't just lost any house points instead, but then you remembered - Snape preferably wouldn't rob Slytherin of any.

It sucked because you'd really been looking forward to Hogsmeade today, and instead of heading off the school grounds like everyone else, you were waiting outside of Snape's office.

Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

It wouldn't surprise you if he'd ditched detention all together. Maybe he talked his family into bribing the school or something. Would he do that? Then he'd have to explain how he got detention in the first place - being found alone with a mudblood after curfew - and you weren't sure if he'd choose that over spending another few hours with you. 

Then again, you supposed that could be used as an argument to get out of it as well. His parents couldn't be too happy with him having to spend any more time with you. 

That was, if he had the guts to tell them he'd gotten detention at all.

The door in front of you opened and you were met with the tired eyes of Snape. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere other than here right now, and for once you found yourself in agreement with the professor.

“Malfoy?” he asked you and raised an eyebrow. 

You shrugged. “Haven't seen him, professor.”

Snape gave you a disappointed look. “I expect you to keep a better eye on your classmates,” he told you sternly. His tone was accusing, as if it was your fault Malfoy hadn't shown up. "Detention next Saturday. Make sure to bring Mr Malfoy with you then." 

Your eyebrows shot up. Could he do that? You opened your mouth to protest, but Snape's look interrupted you. "Watch me," it said.

You closed your mouth as fast as you'd opened it.

Snape disappeared into his office and you wondered if you were supposed to follow him, but moments later he came back out with a cloth and a bucket of water in hand. He handed them to you, and you took them.

“Follow me,” he muttered and headed down the hall. You scurried after him, struggled to keep up with his fast pace without half jogging. Snape himself looked like he was strolling, and you wondered just how long his legs must be to give off that expression.

You stopped a few moments later in front of a door you'd never taken notice of before. It was in one of the halls you'd walked through more times than you could count, and yet, you'd never seen any doors on the walls. It made you wonder if the door just conveniently popped up whenever someone had gotten themselves in detention.

Snape fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked it before pushing it open. The door creaked loudly before it stopped, and the darkness of the room gaped at you like a hungry mouth. The professor reached into the room, seemed to search for something in the dark, before his hand found a hold of it - it turning out to be a rope - and he pulled at it to light the small lamp, the lone light bulb, that hung from the ceiling.

You looked into the room curiously. The room wasn't near as intimidating now as when it was coated in darkness. It turned out to be some sort of storeroom for candelabra. They were all over the floor, and crammed the shelves on the walls. It looked like they hadn't been used in centuries, dust and webs covering them like a blanket. Did they just have candelabra laying around the castle for whenever someone ended up in detention, or were they actually planning to use these in the near future?

Snape took a step into the room to look around, and dust whirled up into the air from the sudden motion, causing him to cough awkwardly. Probably embarrassed - even though he'd never admit such a thing, he had a reputation to uphold after all - Snape scurried out of the room as quickly as he'd entered.

“I expect everything in that room to be shining by tonight,” he told you, voice strained. He must've still struggled from the dust.

Seemed easy enough. Just a swoosh of your wand and everything would look like new. “And no magic allowed,” he added, boredly.

Your eyebrows shot up. “But professor, that's gonna take hours! Maybe even all day!” you protested before you could stop yourself. 

Snape raised an eyebrow at you. It was like he was trying to figure out when he asked for your opinion. When you were allowed one, even. 

“I did expect there to be two of you,” he said matter of factly, and you could tell from his tone that it was nowhere near his problem that the other person decided not to show up.

“Well, Malfoy isn't here, professor,” you argued, hopeful he might settle with having you polish only half the candelabra.

Snape just looked at you blankly. “That's unfortunate for you, isn't it,” he sneered. “You better get started. There are only so many hours of the day.”

Then, without waiting for your reply, he turned on his heel, his long, black robe swishing dramatically from the motion, and he was off to Merlin knows where. You followed Snape with your gaze, the furrow between your eyebrows being the only sign of the disbelief you felt toward the professor. He rounded a corner, and was out of your eyesight.

Your attention shifted back to the room in front of you, with its mouth that was the door still gaping wide open, and you sighed deeply at the sight of all the work waiting for you. 

How could Malfoy just leave you to deal with all of this by yourself? Would he rather face the consequences of not showing up than being with you?

It didn't make sense. He didn't make sense to you.

It felt like every time you started to understand him, something happened to make you doubt him all over again. It was tiring to have your emotions played with like this.

It made you want to loathe him.

But you could never loathe him. Not after everything.

It wasn't until long after dinner that you were finally done with the task. Just like Snape wanted, everything in the room was shining , and you were quite content with yourself and your work, even if you'd been coughing your lungs out at times from all the dust.

You pulled the rope by the entrance and the lamp turned off with a click. Then you walked out of the room and shut the door behind you. It locked itself right away, the door melting into the background until all that was left of it was a wall identical to the wall surrounding it.

Your robe had turned grey from all the dust and you brushed it off, resulting in a big cloud around you. It made you cough all over again before the dust settled and the hallway came back into view.

“Woah, where did you come from? Found some old secret passage or something?”

You turned around to find Hermione, Harry and Ron coming down the hall. Hermione was grinning from ear to ear and her eyebrows were raised, waiting for an answer to her question. Her eyes were sparkling, which surprised you, because you didn't take her for the adventurous type - despite her being in Gryffindor and having been caught up in more than one of Harry's dramas over the years. She cared way too much about abiding by the rules to actively seek to break them.

You smiled awkwardly. “I wish it was something as cool as that,” you told the trio and chuckled nervously. When they got closer you continued. “No, I had detention.”

“Detention? What for?” Ron asked, ever the blunt one.

Again, you found yourself hesitating. “Snape found me out after curfew,” you settled on, leaving out some details about who you'd been caught with. They didn't need to know that. Besides, Malfoy was Harry's sworn enemy. You were pretty sure he'd disown you as his friend if he found out what the two of you had been up to.

Hermione gave you a disapproving look, so you quickly defended yourself. “I couldn't sleep!”

“Being out after curfew is one thing, the trick is not to get caught,” Ron told you, and you rolled your eyes at his comment, but a smile was tugging at your lips.

Harry chuckled at your side. “Wow, great advice, Ron,” and in turn, Ron gave Harry a smug look.

“You would know,” he shot back and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You've been sneaking out that often?” You wondered just what adventures he’d been out on during night. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went, but you just assumed he was unlucky - not that he got himself into all those situations willingly. Harry glared at Ron, which made you even more curious. “What for?” you questioned, using Ron's question anew.

“Stuff. It doesn't matter.” 

You looked at Ron expectantly, but he just shrugged. Hermione wasn't giving you any answers either. She had already continued walking down the hall.

Ron and Harry followed suit and you walked after them, still not quite accepting his answer. You hated being left in the dark like that.

Eventually, you and Harry fell behind slightly, and you realized you hadn't really talked to him since the Yule Ball.

“How've you been?” you asked. You hung out with Hermione almost on a daily basis, studying together and whatnot, and sometimes Harry would join the two of you, but usually he was busy. He was one of Hogwart’s champions in the Triwizard tournament after all. You figured he had a lot going on with that. “Must be stressful with the tournament?”

Harry shrugged, and answered thoughtfully. “I suppose. The days are kind of merging together in a funny way. How have you been?”

Oh, you know, the usual. Stressing out over a certain Malfoy and trying to figure out my feelings. And trying to figure out his feelings.

You couldn't tell him that.

“My life hasn't been near as exciting as yours, I'm sure,” you chuckled, diverting the attention from yourself. Steering clear of a conversation that surrounded your life might prevent your tongue from slipping.

“That doesn't have to be a bad thing,” Harry answered. You smiled at that, trying to wrap your head around just how much he had going on in his life. “Hey, Y/n, can I ask you something?”

You turned to Harry, who had stopped walking beside you. This made you stop as well, and you furrowed your eyebrows at him, noting that Ron and Hermione hadn’t realised you’d stopped and were disappearing away from you.

He wasn't suspecting anything about you and Malfoy, right? That couldn’t be what this was about.

“Sure, anything,” you told him, and hoped he didn’t notice the sudden nervousness in your eyes. Your hands had found each other and you fidgeted with your fingers, waiting for his question.

Harry rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Would you like to- I don't know- hang out sometime? Like- the two of us?”

Your eyes widened, caught off guard by his question.

Harry smiled crookedly at you, waiting for your answer. His confidence surprised you. Had you asked someone that, you wouldn’t dare meet their eyes the way Harry’s eyes met yours right now.

You chuckled nervously, your head filling with thoughts of Malfoy all of a sudden. The slytherin certainly wouldn't be happy to find you on a date with Harry Potter. Was Harry even asking you on a date?

In fact, Malfoy would be furious - but had he any right to be? That boy couldn't give you any clarity in what he wanted, and you were getting sick of his games. He couldn't even be bothered to show up with you at detention today. You deserved someone who was sure about you, right?

“As friends?” you asked, “...or like a date?”

Harry searched your eyes, and you felt your breath hitch. “Whatever you want it to be.”

Notes:

Sooo, this isn't entirely what I thought I'd write at the end of last chapter, and I feel like some things in this chapter are weird? Idk, but I think they'll lead up to where I want this to go so:)

Chapter 7

The next weekend, you were surprised to see Malfoy already waiting outside of Snape's door. He was leaning back on the cold stonewall next to it, and looked up when hearing your footsteps. The look on his face was blank, but recognition flashed across his eyes when he saw you.

Walking up to him, you gave him a short confused look, and while all your senses screamed at you to be annoyed at him for leaving you alone in detention last week, seeing him now made you forgive him instantly. That caused you to frown slightly at yourself.

One and a half week ago, Malfoy had told you that you had control over him, but he had gotten it all wrong. He was the one who had control over you - and you didn't like it one bit. It felt like you were doomed to get hurt because of it.

For all you knew, he might as well rip your heart out of your chest and stomp all over it. You knew he didn't care for you. Not really.

Yet, here you were, ready to forgive him without even an apology on his end, and giving him a short nod as a greeting, when in reality you should despise him and ignore him altogether.

You stopped a bit away from him, anxiously shifting your weight between your feet.

Malfoy looked at you, and there seemed to be a battle going on in his head whether he should greet you back or not. There was no one else around. He shouldn't have to pretend to hate you like he claimed he did. Then again, the battle in his head was probably more against himself and his morals than anything else.

In the end, and not even seconds later, he gave you a short nod in return, acknowledging you. Strangely, it made your heart flutter. 

Were your standards so low that you fell for him for just being decent enough to greet you back?

Before you had to engage in any small talk to bear the silence, Snape's door opened.

Snape stopped in the doorway, and you noticed the slight shock in his eyes from spotting Malfoy. The emotion looked strange on his face. You were used to expressionless Snape.

“Mr Malfoy. I see you decided to join us this week,” Snape said. “Seeing as you didn't serve your detention last week, I expect to see you next weekend as well.”

The professor handed out the detention casually, and with so much decisiveness that there was no idea to argue. His words were final and both Malfoy and you knew it.

Malfoy's jaw tensed, and you could tell he'd hoped Snape would forget all about his absence last week, or that he would get away with not showing up because he was Snape's best student. You might even stretch it to Snape’s favourite student. It felt like that when the professor, time after time, turned a blind eye to Malfoy’s mischief.

You didn't notice until it was too late. A smug smile had tugged its way onto your lips, and you were actually liking Snape for a change. He didn't let himself be blinded by favouritism.

“Perhaps, Ms L/n would like to join as well?” Snape said bitterly, and the smirk fell from your face in an instant.

Your eyes widened in panic. “No, professor. I'm sorry, professor. I just came to think of…” You hurriedly tried to get an apology out, but trailed off, not coming up with any believable excuse.

He gave you an unimpressed look. “I'll see you in detention next week,” he muttered. You didn't understand how he could go about so disinterested in everything. “I'm sure Mr Malfoy would be in favour of some company.”

If Snape wasn't a professor, and a much more experienced wizard at that, you'd have jumped at his throat the moment he gave you another detention. What did he give you detention for anyway? For smiling? That man must really hate the world.

And so much for not favouring his students.

You forced the groan down your throat before you landed yourself another weekend of detention. Three was more than enough.

“Ms L/n,” Snape said and held out a bucket of water for you to carry. Once you’d taken it, he started walking down the hall. “Follow me,” he said, just like he’d done the previous weekend. Malfoy strutted proudly behind him, back straight and chin held high. It looked funny watching the two of them walk away in their respective walking styles, so much that you almost forgot to follow. 

Like a week ago, Snape seemed to be floating away from you at a speed you couldn’t compare to even when jogging, and to your surprise Malfoy followed along without much effort. He managed to keep up with Snape while walking , which you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Although, you were the one carrying the bucket. Even if that wasn’t the reason you struggled to keep up, you’d pretend it was.

Snape made an abrupt stop in the middle of the hall, and Malfoy halted as well. You didn’t.

It wasn’t even your fault. Malfoy could’ve stopped somewhere else instead of right in front of you. Or he could’ve warned you he’d stop so abruptly - maybe install rear lights that would light up when he hit the brakes all of a sudden - anything so that you could also stop. 

But he didn’t warn you, of course, and it wasn’t like you’d seen Snape halt to a stop when Malfoy’s broad shoulders had been in the way. It was like he wanted you to walk into him or something.

Your forehead collided with Malfoy’s back and you bounced back from the impact, some of the water spilling over the edges of the buckets, and your free hand coming up to touch your head where you’d hit it. “Ow,” you mumbled and rubbed your head.

Malfoy spun around in less than a second, eyes cold. He opened his mouth as if to sneer at you.

“Sorry,” you piped nervously, before he could say anything.

Malfoy’s mouth closed again, but he didn’t let go of you with his eyes. They narrowed at you, and you gulped awkwardly. Though, it didn’t feel like he was as furious as you’d expected him to be. He wasn’t reeking like he would have been in the past.

If anything, it seemed like he acted this way because that was what was expected of him.

When he turned back around, you were glad you hadn’t landed yourself another weekend of detention by starting a bicker in front of Snape.

Snape eyed the two of you suspiciously, but turned back to the door in front of him when he realised how little he cared about what you were up to.

“Ms L/n might recognize this room since she was here last weekend as well,” he said, and your attention shifted to the door - the same door you’d been standing in front of last Saturday - and Snape walked up to it, fished the key out of his pocket, locked up the door, and pulled on the rope that lit the lamp in the ceiling. The scene was creepily similar to how it’d been a week ago.

It was the exact same room, with the candelabra cramming its floor and walls. You expected it to be polished today, to be shining like it was when you left it, but it wasn’t. Everything was covered in dust and webs just like it had been before you’d spent all day polishing it.

You stared into the room in horror, and Malfoy frowned when seeing your face.

Snape didn’t remake his mistake of walking into the room and spared himself of an awkward cough. 

“You know the drill. Here are some cloths-” he held out the cloths that you somehow had missed he’d been carrying, and Malfoy took them from him, “to polish everything with. You’re not to use magic, obviously. Come by my office with the cloths and the bucket when you are finished.”

Snape didn’t waste a second to be on his way, and you watched him go, his robe dragging after him like a bridal veil.

“Should we get started?” you asked Malfoy and turned back toward him.

You should leave him to polish everything by himself. That was what he had done to you last week, and it wasn’t more than fair that he did as much work as you.

But you couldn’t. What if someone realised you weren’t in detention? Three weekends without Hogsmeade was enough.

Plus, Malfoy was here, and while he scared the living shit out of you and you wanted to run away from him and the whirlwind of emotions he meant, you also wanted to be with him. Detention happened to be the perfect excuse to hang out with him without raising suspicion.

You took one of the cloths from him without so much as a ‘thank you’.

The bucket of water seemed to have gotten heavier with time and you struggled to carry it into the room. When you finally put it down on the floor, the water turned into a stormy sea, its waves crashing violently at the bucket’s sides, and some water spilled over the edges before the sea calmed again.

Malfoy walked into the room after you, and the door closed behind him. He looked at the bucket of water and the pool on the floor around it, before his gaze rose to land on you.

You avoided his eyes with all your might, both too tired to deal with him and nervous to be in his presence. Your heart had started galloping in your chest, something it mysteriously did whenever Malfoy and you were alone in a room, and your eyes nervously flickered around you.

“If you take that side, I'll take this one,” you told him, and tried to keep your voice composed. You got to work at once, to avoid any protests on Malfoy's end, or to avoid whatever conversation he might be keen on starting.

Malfoy just stood in the doorway watching you.

You tried to focus on the candelabra in front of you, and polished it with your wet cloth. The webs and dust came off little by little.

It became more and more difficult to keep from looking at Malfoy with him just standing there. You could feel his eyes on you, and it felt like they were boring holes into you.

Finally, you gave in and your eyes flickered up to meet his. The furrow between your eyebrows had taken its place without your consent.

Malfoy watched you with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You don't have to do anything,” he said, and the furrow between your eyebrows deepened. “Since you did everything last week, it's only right that I polish everything myself this week.”

You studied him, tried to catch the lie. When was he gonna break out of character and laugh at you for believing he could actually be selfless?

But he never did.

“Don't be silly,” you told him, shaking your head. “We do half of the room each.”

Malfoy's eyes searched yours. “Y/n, really, I'm sorry for not showing up last week. You don't have to be here today.”

His apology seemed sincere, but you narrowed your eyes on him. “Are you trying to land me another detention? Are you gonna snitch on me the moment I walk out of that door?”

What was his game plan? You'd leave him with all the work and then he'd run to a professor and tell them you hadn't been in detention? No thank you.

Hurt flashed across his eyes, and you wondered if he'd actually meant what he said. He was hurt by how little trust you had in him, and his shoulders slumped down at your remark.

But could he really blame you? In the past, he did everything he could to make your life miserable.

Without another word, Malfoy walked over to the bucket and dipped his cloth in. You watched him squeeze the water out of it before walking over to his side of the room and crouching down among the candelabra.

It was difficult to tear your gaze from him, and you watched him scrub the candelabra with his cloth, trying to polish it. A frown made its way onto his face when he struggled to get some stain off or when the webs wouldn't come off his hands.

Watching him, a small smile crept its way onto your lips and you focused back on the work in front of you.

The hours passed slowly - but it felt like they went by faster than last week. Maybe that had something to do with the work being done at double speed. Or maybe it was the company, that it didn’t feel like you were left alone in this hell.

You worked in silence, the only sound being the faint scrubbing, sometimes a muffled cough, and Malfoy’s occasional muttering whenever he couldn’t get some stain off.

“Do you think they’re gonna use this candelabra for anything?” Malfoy’s voice pierced through the silence.

You looked up at him again, meeting his grey orbs. They were silver, almost. Looking into them always caught you off guard for some reason.

“I certainly hope so,” you told him. “This is the second time I’m polishing it in seven days.”

A smile, a wide, genuine smile, spread across Malfoy’s face, and his eyes glimmered. “You’re gonna be a pro at this,” he joked, and you rolled your eyes with a lighthearted scoff.

“Mm, I’ve always wanted to pursue a career in polishing,” you muttered and gave him a tired yet amused look. “Living the dream over here.”

Again, Malfoy chuckled, and it was like music to your ears. You wanted to hear him laugh more often. It was even better that you had been the one to make him laugh.

You held his gaze for a split second too long before you both looked away and focused back on the work in front of you.

The room grew silent again, and the dust that had whirled up during your conversation settled around you.

“I know I already apologized,” Malfoy spoke up again, and you looked up at him. You weren’t prepared for your heart to jump in your chest when your eyes met, and a blush crept onto your cheeks. You quickly diverted your eyes again, and focused back on the candelabra in front of you. “But I really am sorry for not showing up last week. You shouldn’t have had to polish all this yourself.”

You looked up at him, a bit unsure of what to answer.

“Even if it’s your dream,” Malfoy added to lighten the mood, and internally you laughed, but a frown had glued itself to your face.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked him. There was no judgement in your voice, just curiosity. Your voice wasn’t small nor bothered. It was casual. You might as well have been asking him about today’s weather.

Malfoy studied you for some long seconds, maybe contemplating how to answer your question. His eyes fell away from yours, and he seemed almost embarrassed about the answer.

“I was scared,” he he told you honestly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. “Scared? Of what? Snape?” you asked and smirked. Good thing you knew how to deal with these serious situations so that you could get actual answers out of the guy.

Malfoy chuckled at your joke, and the seriousness eased between you.

“Of you. Of myself. I don’t know. Of us?”

You felt relief wash over you as Malfoy actually answered the question honestly.

Your eyes softened on him, and you tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it might’ve come out as a grimace. It felt like you didn’t have any control around him. You felt like Bambi, slipping around and making a fool out of yourself.

“I didn’t trust myself in a room alone with you,” Malfoy admitted quietly, his look flickering to anywhere but you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure if that was a good thing or not. “We’re doing just fine now, aren’t we?” you tested, and Malfoy focused back on the candelabra in front of him. Was he avoiding your gaze?

“Yeah, we are,” he said.

You really wished you could've read into his answer more, maybe taken note of his tone, or how he looked when saying it. But you got nothing.

It was plain, and you couldn't tell if he was sad about the fact, or thrilled about it, or… He remained a puzzle, and once again, you felt defeated. It was tiring to not know what he felt. Especially when your feelings for him grew more reckless every time you met and shared these small yet wholesome moments.

You looked away from him, down at the cloth in your hand that was now full of dust and webs. It looked like it was beyond rescue, and you wondered why Snape wanted it back at all.

You were also beyond rescue. It was like you'd fallen into a big hole and were unable to climb out of it. It was lonely, and your neck hurt from trying to see out of the hole. Malfoy seemed to be leaning over the edge, was all you could see from the depths of it. 

He had dug this hole for you as a trap and now he was filling it up with ideas and dreams that could never be true. It felt like you were choking on what you wished the two of you could be.

After some time, the room was shining nearly as much as it had been last week. You were done with your half and Malfoy was scrubbing the last candelabra on his.

“I can take the cloths and bucket back to Snape,” Malfoy told you. “Don't wait for me.”

“Why? You don’t want us leaving the room together?” you asked. It was meant as a joke, but neither of you laughed. The question had hinted at something serious, something you actually wanted an answer to. Or maybe you didn't want an answer - at least not the answer Malfoy was giving you.

It felt like someone stabbed your heart and twisted the knife when you saw his eyes. They told you everything you needed to know. They made it clear to you just how little you meant to him.

You nodded your head, tried to hide your stinging eyes. After all this time, you still managed to hold onto the hope that Malfoy's view could change.

When would you learn that he was from another world?

You turned around before you lost yourself to your emotions entirely. “I'll see you next weekend,” you told him, voice strained. It felt like the words almost didn't come out and you had to force them off your tongue.

Without waiting for a reply, you'd closed the door behind you.

The wall between you and Malfoy stretched a little higher.

Chapter 8

You'd met up with Harry last Sunday, the day after your first detention, and then met again Wednesday afternoon.

Today, the day after your second detention, you were meeting up again.

You never could’ve thought you’d bond so well with Harry, and had always thought of him as Hermione’s friend - not yours.

Having grown up in the muggle world, like you, he understood the difficulties of trying to find a place here - to fit in at Hogwarts. Of course, the same thing went for Hermione, but she somehow managed to study her way into the wizarding world, and oftentimes, it felt like she knew so much that she might as well have been born into it.

Harry understood you in that sense, like you understood him, and that was something you found yourself connecting over.

It was nice to hang out with someone in more muggle-like ways, as it somehow made you feel very at home.

But that was all it was. You were friends, and you’d made sure Harry knew so before you started hanging out. With everything going on in your head, it didn’t feel fair to him to meet up under any other circumstance.

It felt like you’d known him for years, and while you kind of had, you’d never been this close before. It felt like you could talk to him about anything- well, not anything .

You made sure to leave out some problems of yours: Malfoy, to be precise. Harry wouldn’t understand that problem. Especially since Malfoy had been as bad to Harry as he’d been to you.

It was February, and winter clung to the school grounds with its frosty fingers. There was still some snow lingering about, but the chill air was the best sign that spring had yet to show itself.

You’d made your way down to the Black Lake and plucked down next to Harry on the seat pad he’d laid out for you.

“Guess what?” you said and dropped your bag at your feet.

“What?”

You smirked. “I got us some hot chocolate.” Harry looked at you in surprise, and your smirk widened. “The house elves,” you explained and handed Harry one of the mugs.

“Thanks,” he mumbled when you filled it up for him. You smiled at him, and poured the drink for yourself before putting the thermos back in your bag.

Neither of you said anything for some time, just looked at the Black Lake that lay still in front of you, and sipped regularly on your hot chocolate.

The lake was blank as a mirror, reflecting the grey sky above. You understood why it was called the Black Lake. It was a silvery black, as if it wasn’t actually made of water but of mercury. Everytime you went near it, it felt like an invisible force pulled you toward it, almost like a siren song calling out to you to submerge yourself into its depths and become one with it.

“This tastes almost like the one my dad used to make for me at home,” you said after some time, breaking the silence. Harry looked up from his thoughts, studied you as you went on. “We used to make hot chocolate in the winter, when we’d gone sledding or ice skating. Or whenever the house got too cold. Sometimes, dad made it for me at night when I couldn’t sleep. Mom used to complain that we had it too often and that we’d grow tired of it,” you said and chuckled at the last part. “I don’t think you could ever grow tired of it.”

“Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon never bothered with such things,” Harry said, and smiled sadly at you. “Well, they made lots of hot chocolate for Dudley, and I got to have some whenever there was any over for me, but…” He trailed off.

You looked at him awkwardly, thinking that you might’ve reminded him of a bad memory. “I’m sorry,” you told him sheepishly.

Harry just shook his head. “Don’t be. I feel like I appreciate it more whenever I have it now.”

At that, you smiled. “We should drink lots of hot chocolate before winter ends,” you told him and grinned. Harry chuckled beside you, and went back to staring out at the lake.

You sat in silence for some more time. It wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like the silence spoke for itself, like being in each other's presence was enough to fill up the loneliness you each felt and faced respectively.

Harry must’ve been stressed out about the tournament, facing all those obstacles on his own, and you felt like your mind secluded you from the rest of the world whenever your thoughts wandered to a certain blond. There was no one to share that burden with either.

“How are things with the tournament?” you asked after some time, again being the one to initiate the conversation. Harry was usually more talkative, but today something seemed to be weighing his mind. “It must be time for the second task soon, right?”

Harry pursed his lips, and his eyes became unfocused. You could feel the stress climb in him as the air around you tensed.

“Yeah, in a few weeks. And I still haven't figured out how to solve it. I mean, I think it's something underwater, and that I’ll have an hour to find something, but that's it.”

“Something underwater? Like… in the lake?” you asked and stared at it anew. It seemed like it reflected the sky differently this time. Knowing that Harry would probably have to dive in it at the next task made it give off the image of being deeper and more dangerous than before.

“Probably. I’m guessing the merpeople will be guarding whatever they’ve taken from me, and somehow, I have to find it and recover it before the time is up.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

Harry looked away from the Black Lake to meet your gaze. “Tell me about it.”

“Do you know what they will take from you?”

“No clue.”

You frowned, turning your attention back to the lake. You wondered what creatures lived in it and what threats hid in its depths. “How are you gonna breathe underwater?”

The chuckle beside you made you tear your gaze from the lake once again. It wasn’t bubbly like it should’ve been, but rather dark. There was nothing joyful about the upcoming task. “Another thing I still haven’t figured out.”

 

The dark came early in the afternoon this time of the year, and before you would get lost on your way back to the castle, you decided to head inside. The air was also cold, and despite having dressed for it, the chill breeze bored its way through your clothes. You hadn’t realised it until you got to your feet, but you were freezing.

Harry must've noticed you'd turned into a cube of ice during your talk. "Are you cold?" he asked you.

"N-n-no," you tried to lie, but your chattering teeth made it difficult to form the word without a stammer. To top it off, you shivered at the end, and you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to protect yourself from the cold. 

Harry chuckled sheepishly, and took off his coat and handed it to you. "Here," he said, and held it out for you.

You shook your head. "No, y-you're gonna be cold."

"It's like a five minute walk, don't worry about me."

You reluctantly took the coat from Harry. "Thanks," you mumbled, putting it on. Instantly, you felt a little warmer.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna dive in the Black Lake in this weather,” you muttered, wrapping your arms tight around you.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. “I should’ve brought a dry suit from the muggle world.”

As you walked into the courtyard, you nudged his shoulder playfully. “Or a scuba tank. That would’ve solved your breathing underwater problem.”

The chuckle that left Harry was genuine, nothing like his halfhearted laugh earlier. It carried across the courtyard with the cold wind, swirled right into the arms of none other than Draco Malfoy.

Your heart stopped in your chest when you met his gaze from beside Harry - Harry, who was oblivious to the venomous glare sent his way, and continued talking cheerfully as if his problems had ceased to exist for now - and it seemed like time stopped for a moment. The air between you and Malfoy froze to ice, the whirling crystals slowing their dance midair until it looked like they were floating.

You gulped, and forced your eyes away from his, and continued walking toward the school entrance with Harry before he could notice anything was off.

You smiled at something he’d said, tried to get your focus back on the conversation, but nothing Harry said until you were out of sight of Malfoy reached your ears. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and your gaze was unfocused. You felt like shrinking into the ground, away from his burning gaze, and away from the guilt you felt from having hung out with Harry behind Malfoy's back.

Since when were you obliged to tell Malfoy who you hung out with anyway?

But the churn in your chest didn't go away even when whisking the thought aside. 

You wanted to flee from him, so you did. Every step you took was a step further away from him. Every step you took felt heavy, and it was as if you were defying your actual desires, doing what was expected of you when in reality you’d rather left Harry’s side and run up to Malfoy instead.

It was like the Yule Ball all over again. The only thing missing was Pansy Parkinson wrapped in Malfoy's arms. Ew no.

Only when the doors to the castle closed with a thud behind you, did you feel like you were breathing again. So, why did it feel like you couldn’t breathe when the castle walls stood between you and Malfoy?

 

After Malfoy had spotted you and Harry, you expected to be confronted about it, but the hours passed… and nothing.

Despite not wanting to admit it even to yourself, your heart sank a little that night when you went to bed and Malfoy hadn’t even cast you a glance at dinner in the Great Hall.

You didn’t want to be confronted about it. You felt guilty just from the look Malfoy had given you. Yet, part of you wanted him to ask. Part of you wanted him to be bothered by the fact that you hung out with Harry, and that he asked you about it. That would mean that he actually cared.

The classes of Monday passed, and you started to think that he didn’t, that Malfoy didn’t care. He might’ve even decided to avoid you until detention on Saturday. Maybe he would even skip detention altogether so he didn't have to see you.

That seemed to be his way of dealing with his problems.

Because that was all that you were to him, after all, wasn’t it? You were just his problem that he didn’t know how to deal with and was nowhere ready to face.

You tried to convince yourself Malfoy wasn’t even on your mind anymore - as you so obviously wasn’t on his - but he was like a virus that had grabbed ahold of your brain, and lay latent in your unconsciousness, waiting for the right time to strike. Almost like a snake. No matter how well you kept yourself occupied from your thoughts, it felt like he was always with you, looming.

In the afternoon, you were walking to the library to meet up with Hermione to catch up on your studies and distract yourself. The halls were unusually quiet, and you figured most students were probably in their dorm rooms already. After all, it seemed like everyone had been extra tired lately. Maybe it had something to do with the short days and much too long nights - the dark loomed over the castle from early in the afternoon until late into the morning, and the neverending darkness surely took its toll on people.

A screech escaped you when you were pulled from your path toward the library into another hallway. 

“Let go of me!” you screamed at the person, and struggled against their grip, but their grip around you only tightened. 

No one would hear you even if you screamed for help. You’d been pulled into a secluded hallway that was rarely ever used. Prior, you’d only been in it once, when you ran down it in your second year late for class, thinking it was a short cut. It had turned out it wasn’t, and you’d earned yourself a scolding and lost ten house points.

Your back slammed against the nearest wall, your abductor hovering over you intimidatingly.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as if it wanted out, your breath hitched in your throat and your mind racing.

The shadow over you made you feel small, and you wished for a secret passage to open up in the wall behind you and swallow you whole. Anything to let you get away from your abductor.

You felt your eyes flick up in panic, only to lock eyes with Malfoy. He was standing over you, blocking you from escaping him. His left hand was on the wall next to your face, his arm trapping you from running back where you came from, but whatever hindrance he put up for you wasn’t necessary. 

At the sight of him, all of your will to free yourself left your system. At once, you stopped struggling, your gaze turning from panicked to annoyed. 

You rolled your eyes at him, your face full of disbelief. You tried to act uninterested in whatever this was. In reality, your heart started beating fast in your chest for an entirely different reason.

His face was close - so close you could feel his breath in your face - and it almost felt like he was leaning in, but the look in his eyes pulled you back to your senses before you got any ideas. Malfoy's silver eyes were narrowed at you, his gaze piercing. He wasn’t leaning in.

You felt yourself crumble in front of him, but despite the air being sucked out of your lungs, and the world collapsing around you, you stood straight. 

Your expression turned into a frown, and your own eyes narrowed in response. It was all an act to hide the fact that how close you were made your heart flutter. “What do you want now?” you muttered in annoyance.

At least, you hoped your voice sounded annoyed. You hoped Malfoy didn’t notice the way your eyes flickered from his nervously as his gaze was suddenly difficult to hold, and how you couldn’t decide which foot to put your weight on. All of you was a nervous wreck, and you prayed he didn’t realise the effect he had on you.

You tried to hold onto the irritation you’d felt the past day when Malfoy hadn’t talked to you. Your head was doing its best bringing you back to your senses, to keep your guard up and remember Malfoy wasn’t ready to admit his feelings for you, that he wanted to keep whatever this was a secret.

But none of that mattered now that he was standing in front of you with that dark look in his eyes. Whenever he looked at you like that, nothing but the two of you mattered.

You gulped, realising just how badly you’d fallen for Draco Malfoy. Head over heels to be exact, and you feared there was no way out of this mess anymore.

“Aren't you scared somebody's gonna see us?” you sneered at him, accompanied by another roll of your eyes. You tried to keep your face straight to not give away how you were slowly losing yourself to your emotions.

Malfoy’s narrowed eyes were still focused on you, but it seemed like he struggled to keep them locked on your eyes. All of him seemed to struggle to keep his composure.

“Dating Potter now, are you?” he asked. Malfoy spit out ‘Potter’ as if it was a curse word.

No, you wanted to answer. Your heart wanted you to reassure him, tell him that it wasn’t a date. You weren’t dating Potter. 

Another part of you liked that Malfoy was jealous. It convinced you further of his feelings for you, and made your heart do flips in your chest.

Your brain was another story. It tried to make sense of the situation with logic - but nothing about this was logical. Malfoy had been your bully for three and a half years - that fact hadn’t changed - and yet you were crushing on him hard . Not to mention the impossibility of the two of you ending up dating with Malfoy’s idiotic morals. There was no way this made any sense.

The last part of you hated that Malfoy did this to you. How many times had he not ripped your heart out, stomped all over it and then put it back in assuming it was still beating? He was treating you like a yo-yo, pulling you in and pushing you away as if you were a mere toy.

“I'm not allowed to hang out with people?” you asked him, mockery in your tone and letting the irritation flood your voice. It didn’t matter that you felt like smacking your lips to his and forgetting all about his stupid pureblood ideas for a moment. You gave into the part of you that was angry with him for playing with you like this.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed further. If he squinted more all the silver would be gone.

“You can't hang out with people like that ,” he told you, voice low. 

“Like what?” you hissed, holding his gaze and managing to push down your fury before it exploded in his face.

You watched Malfoy's eyes darken, and your heart fluttered when seeing the jealousy flash across them. Suddenly, you seemed to be having the upper hand. It all felt like a game, and finally you understood its rules.

Your own eyes narrowed on him slightly, but the new-found confidence made the smirk that tugged at your lips difficult to hide.

Something seemed to be going on in Malfoy’s mind. His eyes had become unfocused, and he seemed almost in a daze looking at you. Almost like you were the only thing existing; as if everything around you had disappeared; as if you were his entire world.

“Like what?” you asked again, when Malfoy didn’t answer, but your voice had lost its strength. Somehow, you found yourself caught up in the tropical fog that had wrapped around him, and you felt its warm air float around you like armor. It was calming, and felt safe. Being in his presence felt safe.

Your words pulled him from his thoughts.

A subtle blush crept up Malfoy’s neck, onto his cheeks. He snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, but the warm atmosphere didn’t seem to leave his mind, and you remained his only focus.

“Damn it, Y/n. You're doing it again,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes still lost in yours.

It felt like butterflies swarmed you at his words. Your knees felt weak, and you were grateful that the wall at your back held you upstanding.

“Doing what?” you whispered, feeling small from the intimate moment but desperate for an answer. Your heart beat drummed in your ears as you waited for Malfoy to answer your question.

Malfoy was stuck with his gaze deep in your eyes, and it seemed like he mumbled his next words almost hypnotised.

“Things. To me.”

But the words had worked as his wake up call, and he snapped out of the enchantment, suddenly stressed. He quickly took a step back, away from you, and your heart sank when seeing the terrified look in his eyes. The warm air sank around you with it, faded away until all that was left was a wall of cold air between you.

You didn’t know what to answer. Neither did Malfoy, it seemed.

He looked at you for some awfully long moments before he gained back his control. The terror in his eyes was exchanged for anger - at least that’s the facade he tried to put up, but you’d learned to see right through them at this point. You could tell he was still panicked about what he’d just said. Maybe not so much about the words themselves, but at the realisation that came with them.

You weren’t the only one who’d fallen head over heels.

“Just- Just stay away from Potter ,” Malfoy hissed, trying to hide his true emotions behind the annoyance - just like you’d done minutes ago.

He was gone in an instant, leaving you to wonder if he’d been there at all or if you’d just imagined the whole thing.

Chapter 9

Notes:

So sorry for the late update. This past month has been insane.

Anyway, enjoy! :)

It was as if Malfoy was avoiding you again. He wouldn't really look at you - not like he had in the past - and you rarely ran into him. Hopefully it was just a coincidence - he just happened to take other routes than you to classes, and you managed to miss each other in the Great Hall. It might just be bad luck.

But you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was actually taking small detours to class to avoid you, and that he went to the Great Hall when he was sure you weren’t there. It felt like he couldn't get himself to face you, or his feelings for you.

You weren’t sure what to feel about it. Your heart wrenched at the idea Malfoy deliberately avoided you. It made you wonder what he felt about you, even when the signs had been so clear. But what would you say to him if you talked? You weren’t sure you were ready to face those feelings yourself.

Your last encounter had been an eyeopener. This had developed into something more than just a game of desire. It had turned into something far more dangerous, something that could potentially be the downfall for the both of you. 

Real feelings were involved.

You weren’t sure what to do with real feelings. Things had gotten way out of hand.

Truth was, you weren’t even sure you were mad about it. Part of you still despised him for everything he’d done to you over the years; the things he’d called you; how he’d treated you; how he continued to disregard you again and again, but it was silenced by that other part of you that felt all fuzzy inside at the thought of him. You caught yourself daydreaming about Malfoy, your thoughts wandering off in class, when you were doing homework, at dinner when you couldn’t find him in his usual seat and tried to figure out where he was…

“Why do you look so dreamy?” Fred asked as he sat down next to you in the library. Not a second later, George flopped down in the seat on your other side.

“Yeah, what’s with you lately? You never hang out with us anymore,” he said.

A bit caught off guard, and scared they might’ve read your awkward thoughts just now, you struggled to meet either of their gazes. Embarrassed, you focused back on your homework in front of you. You hadn’t read a word from your book since you got here. It just lay lifeless in front of you, probably wondering when you’d give it some of your attention.

A forced chuckle left you before you could stop it. It bubbled out of you unnaturally, like a potion that wasn’t correctly brewed, and a blush spread across your cheeks like a fire. So much for being subtle.

“Is it a boy?” George added and smirked, seeing right through you.

Your blush did nothing but deepen, and you absentmindedly sunk down in your seat. The twins were gonna be the death of you. It was their fault you’d gotten here to begin with. You’d never have been in this mess if it wasn’t for their stupid prank before Christmas.

But you couldn’t call even it stupid anymore. You were almost grateful to them.

“Homework,” you corrected, but the twins were the masters of tricks. Obviously, they could tell you were lying.

“It is a boy,” Fred told George in amusement, grinning at his brother.

You groaned and sunk deeper in your seat. “No,” you argued, but to no avail. Your ‘no’ hadn’t been convincing in the slightest, and Fred and George raised an eyebrow at you each.

The twins shared an amused look, then scooched closer to you.

“Who is he?” Fred asked interestedly.

“Do we know him?”

They had both leaned in in anticipation, and you felt yourself shrinking. Now would be a perfect time to go invisible and flee from here unnoticed.

“It’s no one. You don’t know him.”

The twins shared a look, and you glanced nervously between them. You weren’t in the mood to gossip. Especially not when you were the gossip.

Soon, there wouldn’t be much chair left to sink down in and you’d flop down on the floor in front of you awkwardly. 

“Bummer,” George told you, breaking the silence that had fallen over you for some unbearable seconds. You gave him a confused look, surprised when he actually respected your personal space. 

Obviously, he hadn’t believed any of your lies. Hogwarts was the ‘everyone knows everyone’ kind of school. At the very least ‘everyone knows of everyone’. There was no way they hadn’t at least heard the name of this boy. But for some reason, George decided to leave you be.

You gave him a relieved smile, and something shifted in his eyes as well. It was almost like a “you’re welcome” to your silent “thank you”.

“Yes, bummer,” Fred agreed, but his voice was dripping with disappointment. Unlike his brother, he was more reluctant to let this go, and he eyed you suspiciously, waiting for you to drop the privacy and spill. 

You gave him a halfhearted, crooked smile, and begged he’d stop staring at you with those narrowed eyes. At last, he sighed, and let you be. Internally, you relaxed.

The conversation went on about other things - things that hadn’t to do with your top secret love life - and you tried to focus on the twins to not raise any more suspicion. Fred gave you unconvinced looks every now and then, and you tried to brush him off with a faint smile.

This was bad.

You liked Malfoy. It wasn’t just the tiptoeing around the castle, trying to keep your encounters secret, and acting like strangers around each other, that made you into him. It was so much more. 

He had a depth to him that you craved to explore. He was like a puzzle that you wanted to piece together and figure out. It was as if he had a soft side behind all the layers of hatred, anger, and stuck-up pureblood, and you wanted to be the reason his walls crumbled down so that he showed it.

 But he was avoiding you, so you did what any sane person would. You used his weakness against him to get through to him.

It was toxic, you knew it was, and every fiber of your body screamed at you to stop with the idiocy before you’d burnt every bridge around you - but you just couldn’t help it. 

You were obsessed with getting Malfoy’s attention. You wanted him to notice you, to look at you like he had in the past, and to stop taking those detours to not run into you - so you did what you knew would crack his shell open. You’d learnt just what strings to play to evoke the dangerous feeling of jealousy that danced in your own chest whenever you saw him with Pansy Parkinson.

They were friends. You shouldn’t care. But so were you and Harry, so what was the difference?

You were just using Harry a tiny bit.

Somewhere, deep in your conscience, a voice reminded you this was really idiotic and that you shouldn’t use your friends, but you dismissed the weak attempt at keeping your morals straight. 

Sometimes, you sat next to Harry in the Great Hall. You spotted Malfoy when he looked at you - he tried to be subtle, sent you glances when he thought you weren’t looking, but you were watching him like a predator watched its prey. That’s when you’d lean a bit closer to Potter, tell him something that made him laugh beside you. His shoulders jumped up and down and his eyes glimmered. 

You tried to focus on Harry. You could feel Malfoy’s eyes on you from the Slytherin table, and it made you want to turn your head and look at him - just to check if he was indeed watching you - but you glued your eyes to Harry’s and forced a smile on your lips.

Sometimes, you’d nudge Harry’s shoulder playfully, and he gave you that look of hope that made your insides churn and tie into awful knots.

Of course, you knew you were playing him, and your mind screamed at you to stop before you’d done damage that couldn’t be undone. You really wished you could’ve listened to your head more, but your body acted on its own.

It was working. Malfoy was looking at you, and that’s what kept you going.

You took strolls around the castle with Harry in between classes and during free periods, and made sure to take a small detour past the dungeons where you knew the possibility of running into Malfoy was higher. When, occasionally, you did, you’d walk closer to Harry, try to smile a little wider. You’d nudge him and point things out, or say something flirty that Malfoy would pick up. 

It wouldn’t have been as easy to pull off if Harry wasn’t so oblivious. He didn’t notice your desperate side glances at Malfoy, or the way you’d check if the blond was watching your act. 

Because that was all it was.

Malfoy noticed. He saw the way you looked at him from beside Harry, almost as if asking him if this was what he meant by “stay away from Potter”. 

He knew what you were doing, and he wasn’t happy about it. You could tell from the way he eyed your every move: he narrowed his eyes at you occasionally, or bit his lip deep in thought. Mostly, his eyes were dark on you from across the room, jealousy smudged all over his face, and you had to stop your lips from twitching up in triumph. The game wasn’t won yet, you had to remind yourself.

Sometimes, he’d send you longing gazes from afar - the kind where it looked like he was daydreaming about running up to you and pulling you in for a kiss - and those were the looks you liked the most. Those were what made you keep going even when that voice in your head pierced through.

You were playing Harry. He was merely a piece in your game, and you knew there was a risk you’d destroy what little friendship you’d managed to build the past week if he ever found out what you were up to.

The boy who lived thought you were flirting with him - because blatantly, you were - but it was all part of the act. The hope in his eyes grew with each day, and that knot in your chest got tighter. He was collateral damage, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not enough, at least. Not enough to stop. You cared more about Malfoy’s attention than the fact that you were leading Harry on shamelessly.

It was toxic.

It was getting out of hand, and you couldn’t stop.

Malfoy’s eyes on you was like a drug, and you were addicted. You were gonna resort to all means to make sure he kept looking at you. Nothing else mattered. The only thing you cared about was feeling that flutter in your chest when he looked at you.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” a voice said behind you.

You jumped in fright, and spun around with your book held tight to your chest, hoping it would work as a shield from whoever had just given you a heart attack.

“Fred, you scared me,” you told the ginger and forced a chuckle. It was strained, awkward, because despite Fred not being an axe murderer, he had asked you a question you’d rather not answer.

“Sorry about that.”

Turning back around toward the bookshelf - you were in the library to collect some literature for an upcoming assignment - you hoped Fred would forget all about his question and leave you to sulk in shame by yourself. The seconds passed, and you silently prayed he didn’t see the pained expression on your face as you were once again reminded of the act you’d put up the past days.

“So? It is, isn’t it?” he asked again when you didn’t answer. This caused you to turn around and face him again. Your motions were slow, as if you did everything you could to put this confrontation off for as long as possible. You were trying to win yourself some time to come up with a believable lie - but your mind was blank of ideas to get out of this, and instead filled with thoughts of a certain blond. Anything and everything reminded you of him lately.

It was his fault you were in this mess.

“Is ‘what’?” you asked, trying to act dumb. Maybe then Fred’d drop it.

“It’s Harry that you- you know- like? Isn’t it?” he asked again, whispering the last part in case someone was listening in on your conversation. How considerate of him.

“Oh,” you started, faking surprise. “I- uh- How’d you …know?”

Fred’s smirk widened, proud he’d been right. “It’s obvious,” he told you, grinning from ear to ear. “The way he looks at you. The way you act around him.”

Your heart wrenched when seeing the joy in Weasley's eyes. You felt sick. You felt disgusted with yourself for doing this. Poor Harry.

You were fooling everyone around you. You didn't recognize yourself, and that scared you.

And yet, you weren’t backing out of the lie. You were in this mess too deep.

“The way he looks at me?” you asked, voice small and hesitant. You tried to act nervous, but you were convinced a bit of fright was mixed into the emotions in your eyes.

Fred smiled warmly at you, probably thinking you were oblivious to Harry’s crush on you. “Yes. Oh, you’d make such cute babies~”

“Ew, no. That’s- Ew.” 

Fred’s hands shot up in defense. “I’m just saying.” 

You couldn’t deal with this. It made you feel terrible. You turned back around and moved your eyes so that it’d seem you were scanning the books in front of you. In reality, the stressy blur only passed in front of you. You couldn’t recite a single book title from the shelves, for not a word had registered.

Internally, you wished for Fred to leave. You couldn’t lie to him. Not like you lied to everyone else. He was like family, would see right through you the second your walls faltered. 

After some moments of silence, you turned toward him again. His smile had fallen off his face slightly, a frown having taken its place, and he looked rather deep in thought. “He likes you,” Fred told you and met your gaze. “But he’s got a lot going on. Go easy on him.” His eyes searched yours, and you felt yourself shrinking in front of him.

You gulped, and nodded your head as convincingly as you could.

Fred’s eyes softened on you. “You know he’s like family to us. And so are you. I’d hate it if it came down to choosing between taking yours or his side.”

The smile you gave Fred at that was pained, and you nodded your head too convincingly for your own liking. “I know,” you promised.

Chapter 10

“Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?”

You looked up from your notes - the very fast scribbled notes that you couldn’t quite decipher even when you’d been the one who wrote them - and met Harry’s gaze. He looked at you expectantly from across the table, almost as if he had the whole Saturday planned out for the two of you already. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

“We could go to the Three Broomsticks-”

“Can’t,” you answered shortly, cutting him off. 

You watched Harry’s eyes change from excited to confused. His eyebrows knitted together and he looked about to ask you "why not", but you beat him to it.

You turned back to the notes in front of you. “Detention,” you explained plainly while furrowing your own eyebrows at a word that was particularly difficult to read. Was that an m? Or maybe an r? A p?

“I thought you already had detention,” Harry wondered out loud, disappointment evident in his voice.

It must be an m. That’s it.

“Or did you break any more rules recently?”

Your eyes shot up from your notes again at his accusation. It wasn’t so much of an accusation really, it just felt like one. You usually didn’t have detentions, but tomorrow would be your third weekend in a row. 

Harry was staring at you deep in thought, as if he wasn’t just waiting for an answer to his question but also making up new plans for tomorrow. 

“I wasn’t out again after curfew if that’s what you’re asking,” you told him. Your answer was calculated, and you smirked at him to cover it. Secretly, you hoped he would leave the subject at that, because inside, you were panicking. How would you explain your detentions to Potter without mentioning Malfoy?

Harry smiled, oblivious to your stressed state. “So, you did something else?” he asked, voice on the verge of teasing. He probably wanted it to come off as that, but you both knew he was prying.

You cocked an eyebrow at Harry. When did he become so comfortable around you?

Oh, that’s right. When you flirted with him shamelessly for a week. 

“I guess Snape just isn’t very fond of me,” you shrugged, settling on which was only half a lie.

Harry seemed to buy your explanation because he nodded along convinced. “Is Snape fond of anyone?” he asked and chuckled. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for any further details.

You smiled, and focused back on your notes in front of you. “Don’t think he is.”

A few moments of silence passed. You tried to read your notes, but the letters were all smudged together. It didn’t even look like English.

But the bad handwriting wasn’t the only reason you couldn’t make out the words. It felt like something was hanging in the air between you and Potter, and it was making it difficult to focus. He was looking at you, and you had to glue your eyes to the paper to not accidentally look up and meet his gaze. It felt like he might say something if you did.

Although, it was only a matter of time until he would. You could feel it - the way he was waiting for the right moment to speak - but you weren’t sure you wanted to hear whatever he had to say. 

The looks he’d been giving you lately - that awful hope that danced in his eyes whenever your eyes met - made you want to shrink into yourself. Your stomach dropped every time you caught him staring - and not in a good way.

You felt like a terrible person.

You wished he would just stay quiet so that you could pretend you weren’t using him the way you were, so that you didn’t have to make up any more lies.

“I was really looking forward to having butterbeer with you,” Harry sighed, breaking the comfortable silence - at least it was more comfortable than when he spoke - and your gaze had to leave the safety of your notes and flick up at him. “But I can stay at Hogwarts if you want. We can do something when you’re out of detention.”

Your eyebrows shot up, but you tried to hide your panic with a nervous smile. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t know when detention’s gonna end. It might take all day.”

Nice save.

“I know I don’t have to,” Harry chuckled and gave you a warm smile back. “But I want to. I’ll wait for you.”

Or not.

“Really, you shouldn’t,” you tried while your insides churned together. They did that a lot when you and Harry hung out. “You should go to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione. We can hang out afterwards. Or on Sunday.”

Harry studied you, seemed to consider it for a moment. “You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You should go,” you told him and gave him that convincing smile that you'd gotten so good at. “Don’t let my detention be the reason you can’t go to Hogsmeade.”

Harry was quiet for some time and you wondered if you needed to throw another argument in, but then he nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow night. We’ll do something then.”

You forced a smile, and nodded, but you weren’t sure the smile reached your eyes. Your conscience was catching up to you lately, and it was difficult to keep up the act around Harry without drowning in guilt.

Before he’d suspect anything was wrong, your eyes were back on your notes, and the furrow between your eyebrows grew back once you struggled to read them. You could feel Harry’s gaze on you for some time - and you wanted to sink away from it - before he turned his focus to his own studies.

You relaxed once he didn’t look at you anymore.

“Should we take a break?” Harry suggested after another couple of minutes - all of which you’d spent struggling to read your notes.

You’d managed to read a few pages, but were getting tired. Your focus was slowly getting lost in the mess scribbled on the papers on the table in front of you, so you agreed with a nod. “Yes, please.”

“How about some fresh air? I don’t think it’s dark out yet. We could take a walk.”

Oh. That sounds …unnecessarily romantic.

But, was your head kind to remind you, Malfoy might be in the courtyard.

“Sure, that’s a good idea,” you answered and packed up your things. “Meet you in front of the Great Hall in ten?”

“Yeah.”

Ten minutes later, you were walking up to Harry who was waiting for you outside of the Great Hall, just like you’d agreed on.

“It feels like Christmas break just ended, and we’re already drowning in homework,” Harry complained while you made your way out into the courtyard. The cool air hit you like a wall in the face once you stepped outside.

“It does,” you agreed, but your head was elsewhere. You scanned the courtyard hopefully, expecting to spot a familiar Slytherin. It was empty, much to your disappointment.

“Tell me if you get cold,” Harry told you once you’d walked for a bit, and you tore out of your head and focused back on him. You turned to the raven haired with a smirk.

“I brought a coat,” you answered and made a point of lifting some of the thick fabric you were wearing. “Besides, we’re walking, not sitting still for hours.”

Harry chuckled. “Okay, true. But still.”

The walk was surprisingly nice. You took a stroll down to the lake and then turned back toward the school. Harry pointed things out from your surroundings, and the conversation spiralled from there. It reminded you that you actually liked Harry, that he was more than that piece in the game you’d played lately. You were reminded that, before it, he was actually your friend. At least, he was becoming your friend.

When you came back to the courtyard, it wasn’t empty anymore. There were a few students scattered about it, probably taking a break from their studies like you and Harry were, or perhaps, out enjoying the fresh air and the setting sun. The courtyard was bathing in a golden light, the heavy sunrays painting it in the Gryffindor colours. It looked like it was taken out of a fairytale.

“Y/n,” Harry said, and reached out for you to stop walking. His voice was small, almost coming across as vulnerable. You stopped when you felt his hand catch your wrist lightly, and you let yourself be guided in front of him.

At first, your eyes were at his feet. You could sense how nervous he was, and it rubbed off on you. Your eyes wanted to be left on the ground, but you couldn't avoid him forever.

When you finally dared look up and meet his gaze, you saw the stress in them. He was nervously flicking his gaze around, and he hesitated to speak. He looked deep in thought, almost as if trying to convince himself to say whatever rested heavily on his tongue. 

“I-” he started, but trailed off. Harry frowned, perhaps couldn't find the right words, and seemed to struggle to meet your gaze. Finally, he decided he shouldn’t drag this out any longer. He sighed. “I know you told me we were just friends, but…”

Your heart sank, and you gave him a pained smile. You knew where this conversation was going.

“I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something going on between us. And- I don’t know- I just-”

He hesitated again, searched your eyes for any indication he was on the right track. “I like you.”

Even though you’d known they were coming, it felt like someone stabbed you upon hearing the words out loud.

Your heart ached for the boy in front of you. Of course, his confession didn't come as a surprise, but hearing it was so much more heartbreaking than you could've anticipated.

Harry looked almost relieved, and to him it probably felt like he’d cleared the air. He smiled crookedly at you, his eyes glimmering with longing in the golden light.

He chuckled lightly. “I guess I just wanted to let you know. And I might be tripping entirely, but something tells me you like me back.”

There it was again. The hope.

Harry still held onto that hope that you'd been feeding him like a drug the past week. Seeing him standing in front of you with that stupid smile on his face put things into perspective.

You felt like you’d just been caught in the lie, as if Harry had just smacked you in the face - hard. You stood frozen in front of him, paralyzed. Your feet wouldn’t move from under you, even when you wished they’d take you on a sprint away from here. Your mind was blank of coherent sentences to respond with, and you struggled to form an answer. “I- uh-”

Your heart broke a little for him, for the rejection that rested on the tip of your tongue.

The suspense was all over Harry’s face. He was waiting for you to confess your feelings to him, just like he’d just done to you, and you probably should if you wanted to keep up with your act, but… You just couldn’t.

You couldn’t continue lying like this. Not when Harry was standing so vulnerably in front of you, holding his heart out for you to take. You couldn’t take it from him and hold it hostage knowing that you’d stab it later.

You just couldn’t.

Your eyes softened on him. He deserved to know what you’d been up to. You had to tell him what a terrible person you were, to be honest with him for the first time this week. 

Your mouth opened slightly, but it was left hanging slightly ajar. Just when you were about to let Harry down gently, you spotted a blond head a bit behind him. 

Malfoy.

A warm feeling spread in you at the sight of him, and your heart fluttered when he looked your way. Those silver eyes knocked the breath out of your chest, made the world spin and caught you midair all the same.

His eyes on you made the air seem lighter to breathe, the world appear a little brighter, and the anxiety in your chest eased ever so slightly.

It reminded you of why you were doing this in the first place - for him.

You forced that innocent smile on your lips, and met Harry’s gaze anew. Your eyes were probably drenched in nervousness - and poor Harry must think it was because you liked him.

The look you gave him was enough for him to make the move. His hand moved up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear with a tenderness you weren’t used to, his eyes searching yours for any indication he should stop.

You were standing close, but it didn’t excite you like when you were this close to Malfoy. If anything, it made you uncomfortable.

“May I?” Harry whispered, and his eyes bored into you cruelly even when they were nothing but soft. A wave of regret washed over you even before you nodded your head ‘okay’.

Relief flashed across Harry’s eyes at your answer, and his lips twitched up slightly. Then, he leaned in. You almost pulled back by instinct, but suddenly Harry’s lips were on yours.

Notes:

Well, this got awkward.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!!