heir of slytherin

[hellohellook]

DM. A WORTHY OPPONENT

academic rivals to lovers - CHAPTER ONE

a series in which the two fiercest students both must win - but obstacles come along the way.

I, II, III, IV

i’m so excited to welcome you all to my new series, filled with my favourite tropes and emotions hehe <3

His hands shook. Her hands shook. Everyone watched as the teacher ruffled the papers, going down the rows of desks and slowly handing them out to the students one by one.

His knee bounced up and down beneath his desk while her leg, crossed over the other, swung back and forth. The clock ticked quietly in the background, the little owl clock face charmed to hoot softly at every hour. A delicate drizzle pattered against the window panels and, despite the winter's rain that was kept at bay in the cold castle by radiator spells, the two were sweating.

It was that time of the term again, the time where the students all took their half-annual tests to indicate who had been keeping on top of their studies, and who had been, god forbid...slacking.

McGonagall neared the final two desks in the centre of the classroom, and their knee bouncing stopped. The leg swaying stilled, and the clock seemed to stop ticking. Even McGonagall seemed to still slightly, peering over her glasses to glimpse at the two students, fingers on papers. The final two papers.

He glanced to her. She glanced to him. This was it. This determined who had won after these entire six months, and who deserved bragging rights (along with several other privileges) for the next six months to come.

Old fingers carefully picked up the two tests. She placed one in each hand. She let out one final exhale and then handed them with an oozing slowness to the two students. Their bated breaths caught in their throat as they accepted the papers, focusing on nothing but where the red pen would mark their triumph - or failure. Of course, either one would be higher than the rest of the school, but this wasn't about them.

It never was.

This was about him and her.

Draco Malfoy inhaled, taking a deep breath in, and looked at the number.

98%.

He bit down a smirk, cheeks swelling up as his eyebrows cocked up. He'd won. You both looked up from the papers and turned your heads, the same routine as always - look to your own, then to your opponents.

But Draco didn't understand...why were you smiling?

Both heads peered over to see the others’ results, and he couldn't believe what he saw. He wouldn't believe it. He'd worked so hard these past six months. There was no way...It just couldn't be...

99%.

You leapt up from your chair, slamming the paper down on the desk with both hands as you cheered a yelp of triumph. You pointed to Draco who stared up at you with wide eyes, "I win, you stupid little bitch!"

McGonagall gasped, the students laughed, your friends cheered or booed (depending on who was on who's side), but Draco was in disbelief. 99% was...it wasn't just beating him, it was beating both of you. It was a new record, and the only thing he could’ve done to top that was...full score.

His jaw slackened as he, too, leapt up from his seat and snatched your test. You danced in a small circle as the owl hooted and the other students peeled their eyes away, starting to pack away for the next class.

You were on top of the world, especially as you glanced over to see him studying each of your answers, brows furrowed and lips still parted in disbelief. Nothing ever topped this feeling - including your dates with your boyfriend or even your first kiss. Sure, Daphne could joke that it was because of a lack of passion behind your relationship, but you knew better. It was because academic validation was sweet, the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted - and when it involved Draco's losing...it was absolutely delectable.

The class slowly emptied and you turned to look at him with a stupid, satisfied smile on your face, still catching your breath from the adrenaline and dancing. He slowly lowered the paper and met your gaze, mouth finally closing from shock. His voice was quiet, lethal and a promise of vengeance. "I'll get you next time, Y/N."

You hummed, rounding the desk and snatching it back from his hands. "When you do, let me know, will you? I might be too busy graduating, leaving school, who knows? I might even be married by the time you next beat me."

He grumbled under his breath, no doubt calling you all sorts of colourful names as the two of you packed away in silence, the last of the students trickling out of the room. You threw the bag over your shoulder and made your way to the door, an extra skip in your step as you felt him follow behind you. A tall figure stood by the door, leant against the frame with a neat and tidy uniform unlike someone behind you who sported the ‘loose collar and tie’ look. You smiled up at the familiar boy who always waited outside classes to walk you to and from - the boyfriend.

“Hello, Fred.”

The boy took a brief step closer with his eyes on you, arm hooked around your neck to pull you in for a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Morning, love. You all done?”

You smiled and nodded, to which he held out his hand to take your bag from your shoulder. Instantly, you pushed him off and took the bag strap in your own hands, “No, no - he’ll do it for me.”

You slowly turned your head over your shoulder, Fred following your eye-line to meet the sulking, sore loser behind you. Draco looked up at the two of you, confused as to why you were both staring at him before he realised. He looked to the bag outstretched in your hands with dread. This was it, this was his punishment. The forfeit for the next sixth months.

You grinned. “Go on, loser. Carry my bag for me.”

-

You hadn't always been as head-strong as you were about your grades - in fact, you hadn't even studied once in your life until you came to hogwarts. It hadn’t started until the first exam season in first year, where this little stuck up rich kid started boasting that he'd had private tutoring all summer and that he was bound to get the best grades in the school. Of course, younger you couldn't just stand there and listen to this bleach-haired prat spout a load, so you confronted him. And you argued with him. And you beat his ass in those tests. The win had felt so good that during the summer exams of that year, you’d been determined to win again; he'd retaliated and bet his new broomstick that you wouldn't be able to beat him. The defeat had been so brutal that, from that winter on, the both of you had made some sort of unspoken oath to never feel such a horrid feeling as long as you could help it.

It was funny, the way it worked. So far, every exam season had been an alternate - first you won, then he'd be bragging six months later, then the next season you'd be wiping the floor with him again. Even the professors had started sliding each other gold coins in the teacher's office, secret bets as to which they thought would win this time. You purposely snuck out of the dinner hall after every results day to sneak a peak through the little window, seeing which teacher had betted on you winning that time.

You smiled to yourself at just the thought that you had won these winter exams, at the thought of winning against Draco. At the thought of Draco -

"What about you Y/N?"

You looked up to see your friend group, a complete mixture of different houses all sat at the Gryffindor lunch table. To the side of you, Fred sat with his arms crossed on the table, eyebrows raised as if he'd just asked you a question. Um.

"Sorry, what was that?"

He laughed, "You've been like this since exam season started - I thought now that you'd won I'd finally have my girlfriend back. Who would've thought you're still drifting in and out of your own world?"

You nudged him, biting down the smile playing on your lips. "I'm not even thinking about that, I swear."

He hummed, "So what were you thinking about then?"

You grinned, scooting closer to him just to wrap your hands around his arm and batting your eyelashes playfully. "About how much fun I'm going to have with my boyfriend this Christmas."

Fred grinned back down at you, his eyes playful and yet full of anticipation. Sometimes, you could see something far deeper in his expressions that you just couldn't find yourself understanding - nor reciprocating. You just assumed that everyone in relationships went at their own pace, some falling quicker, some slower. You just happened to be the latter - and unfortunately, you could tell Fred was the former. "What fun things were you thinking of, exactly?"

You couldn't tell if he was being mischievous or if he was trying to hint at something else. Nothing between you two had crossed a simple kiss yet and, if you had learnt anything from being friends with Daphne all these years, you needed to cross that line before being able to consider it a serious relationship. You wanted to, you really, possibly, maybe wanted to. You also loved Fred - you really, very possibly might’ve just loved him. You think. To be honest, you didn't know what being in love actually meant; this was the first thing you'd ever even experienced with it. But Fred treated you well, you could tell he loved you, and if you had to work hard to feel the same then you would.

You laughed, pulling away from him and your thoughts at the same time. You glanced down at your plate, then happened to look up opposite you. Across the hall, right on the far end of the hall where the Slytherin table was, you found that Draco Malfoy was already watching you. Perhaps he was just thinking to himself and had happened to land his gaze on you, but something about his attention made your stomach drop.

You pursed your lips. Something fluttered in your stomach, something you'd only felt when you were nervous for exams. For the results of who would reign victor between you two. Um.

You blinked, hard, and the feeling went away. Smiling once more, you turned back to Fred - back to your boyfriend - and reminded yourself that there was more to life than studying and academic validation and petty rivalries that you held with your life.

"Anything. Surprise me, why don't you?"

-

The main hall was empty apart from few students dotted around the tables, the candles seemingly dimmer today, casting an orange glow all over the stone walls. Most students were already making their way home this afternoon, but you had a last minute thing to do. You waited on a table by yourself, blowing hot air into your gloved hands despite the charmed warmth of the hall. To your right, a group of three gryffindor friends discussed something with apparent urgency, a chessboard in front of the boys, a thick book in front of the girl. They almost looked like they could be planning how to save the world, you thought.

The doors opening popped your train of thoughts, the sound quietly clambering through the great hall. You looked up to find just who you were waiting for, the tall figure making his way over to you as soon as he spotted where you were. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his suitcase charmed to trail behind him as he made his way in.

You stood up from the bench, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. This would only take two minutes.

The boy made his way to you as you made your way to him, coming to meet just about halfway between the rows of benches. You might’ve smiled, but you weren’t friends. Instead, you glared. “That’s funny, Draco.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What is?”

“That thing.” You said, nodding to the charmed suitcase behind him. “I remember last year you made me carry it all the way to the station. Who knew you could just charm the damn thing?”

He rolled his eyes, reaching behind him to said suitcase and grabbing a black parcel. He threw it to you with such suddenness that you were forced to release your hold on your own luggage to catch it. “Here, this’ll get you through your dreadful winter’s break.”

You glared again while turning to reach behind you and pick up a brown parcel. You slapped it down into his hands while eyeing him with annoyance. “Who said it would be dreadful, Draco?”

He looked to you, blank faced with a dull voice. “You said you were spending it with Weasley, didn’t you?”

It took you a moment to realise what he was saying, but once you grasped that he was insulting your boyfriend and your relationship you opened your mouth to retaliate back -

But the prat was already making his way out of the hall, not even a wave in goodbye as he swaggered off. You didn’t need him to turn back, you just knew that he would be smirking. Everything was a competition to you two and, if you knew him at all, you were certain that he took that conversation as a win. Typical. So childish of him - you couldn’t care less about such petty things, only the grades truly mattered.

You looked down at the black package in your hands, tightly wrapped with a brown, thin rope. The poor wrapping had creases and it was made to look obviously halfhearted, but that didn’t annoy you in the slightest. Instead, you smiled down at the mess of a Christmas present. Yours was neater.

I win, you thought.

-

The train station bustled with parents and children, all ready to return home and escape London’s ruthless winter. Snow flurried in soft sprinkles until it coated everyone’s eyelashes, tinting the cheeks of anyone you saw without a scarf up to their nose. You searched for your parents as Fred found his, the Weasleys already on their way back to their little car - you’d be meeting him midweek, the end of Christmas Day where you could exchange and open presents together.

A figure suddenly barged from behind you, forcing you to stumble a few steps forward and swivel your head to find who the idiot was, tongue already forming the words to start shouting when you spotted who it was. Of course. You huffed, watching the blond prat strut off towards his parents on the other side of the platform.

Mr and Mrs Malfoy were high class - anyone could see that. They were clad in jewellery shining to the gods, black clothes all pristine and neat. Draco’s mother had gloves on to her elbows, their leather tipped fingers reaching out to embrace her son as she spotted him. Lucius’s lip curled with a sort of satisfied nod in his own special way of greeting someone, yet it only looked like he’d smelt something bad. Which, you thought, was probably just his son.

To the side of them you spotted two familiar figures, equally tall and dressed in white instead of black. Their clothes might’ve been a stark contrast, but their jewellery and posture suggested the same high class and status. You smiled and rushed over, more than ready to get the hello’s over with and apparate home. You didn’t even get further than a hug to both your mother and father before a voice interrupted from behind, low and drawling. “Ah, Y/L/N. What a coincidence.”

You pulled away from your father, all three of you looking behind to see the Malfoys stood facing you. Lucius had his hand resting on his cane, looking down his nose as he addressed your father. Equally, your father stared back as if Lucius was shorter than him by about five foot. “Malfoy. Pleasure.”

So perhaps it wasn’t just you and Draco who had this rivalry - basic pureblood eloquence involved competing with anyone who might be better than you. In this case, the only ones who might be worth comparing were the best of the best; your family, and the Malfoys.

“I’m adoring that coat of yours, Narcissa.” Your mother said, cold hand gently grasping yours in the process.

Narcissa smiled tightly while your mother inspected her nails, manicured and perfect despite the biting frost in the air. “I remember,” she continued, nonchalant as ever, “how last season’s line was simply lovely. I must say, I wasn’t aware that they still sold those pieces anymore.“

You bit down a smile, watching the way Narcissa stiffened and a rigid expression flourished on Draco’s face. You cocked your eyebrows in a subtle taunt to him. He narrowed his eyes.

“I heard the news,” Lucius started before Narcissa might struggle with a response. “The Wizard’s Weekly seemed to quite thrive in their article - ‘Pureblood Elected Muggle Mayor’. My congratulations on the election, dear friend. Although, I must say, very intriguing choice of career.”

Yeah, that’s right. Your father was a mayor. Sure, it was the muggles that he governed, but he was essentially his own boss - what he said, went. It’s more for what Draco’s father could say for himself, what with allegedly working for the dark lord and all. Although, despite what you thought, Draco was smirking at you like he’d just won that round.

You didn’t need to turn to know that your father was tightly smiling back, nor that he narrowed his eyes sarcastically as he said, “Thank you for your congratulations, Lucius, but I’m afraid we can’t stay and chat - we must be going. I have a city to run and a daughter to praise; did you know, dear friends, that our Y/N here achieved 99% in her exams this term? Why, we couldn’t believe when Dumbledore himself owled us the news!”

Your mother squeezed your hand, “Although, we could believe it. We expect nothing less from our little girl.”

You grinned up at her, then looked to Draco. Your grin widened. “It was nothing. It’s embarrassing, really, I hardly remembered to study for it.”

Draco was practically fuming at the ears, no doubt recalling all those sessions you’d both spent in the library (on desks far-away from each other). His parents smiled down at you before your father grabbed your hand also, his wand already out. With one final goodbye, he flashed the three of you out of the cold train station and into the Y/L/N manor.

As soon as they were out of sight, Lucius untensed his shoulders as Narcissa subtly checked her coat. Did it really look like last seasons’?

He grumbled as he grabbed his wand from his robes while Draco started exclaiming, “Rubbish, what she said. She studied just as much as I did.”

Lucius grabbed his hand, joining them to apparate home, and didn’t keep the venom from his voice as he quietly spat back, “Then why didn’t you get 99%?”

He shut up, and let his father apparate them back to the manor.

-

Warm arms enveloped you, their touch gentle as fingers slowly soothed down your hair. You smiled into the embrace and breathed in the scent of firewood, cinnamon and parchment. Fred was like home, such a calming scent that you might feel like putting it into a candle one day, lighting it whenever far from home. His warm breath breathed against your hair as he spoke, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

You pulled away, “And to you, Freddie boy.” He chuckled at the strange nickname, bending down to kiss you sweetly. You leaned into the kiss, tilting your neck upwards and keeping your hands clasped around him lazily. You felt him smile against the kiss, pushing closer and closer, hands slowly driving upwards into your hair and cupping your face. You pulled back, feeling him try and follow you as you did so, but you stopped the kiss before it escalated further. You giggled to play it off, placing your hand on his chest. “Come on, we have presents to open.”

You grabbed his hand and led him towards his own bedroom, knowing your way around because of how much you’d been around here. Greeting his parents warmly on the way up, you already felt like you were enjoying yourself immensely. Except for the heavy burden that was a subtle sense of guilt, the feeling weighing you down from your chest. You knew that if anything was going to happen between you and Fred, it would be during this holiday. You’d been together for nearly a year and yet all you’ve done - all you’ve allowed him to do - was kiss you. If anything was to happen…well, you’d worry about it when it came to it. You could make yourself love him if it was him.

The door opened smoothly, the two of you plopping onto his bed with laughter following. You always felt giddy with him - just like when you were around Daphne, or Blaise, or one of your other best friends. Of course, it was different with Fred. He was…he was your boyfriend.

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice. “Which are you opening first?”

You shook your head discreetly, clearing the fog of thoughts before they prevented you from enjoying your evening. You grinned at him and shrugged sweetly. “I want to save best for last.”

“Ah, so you’ll be opening mine last, then.”

You giggled as you reached into your bag of presents. You’d just taken all your presents and shoved them in together - minus the ones from your parents which you’d opened in front of them - so that the two of you could open everything from your friends and each other together.

Fred and you went through the piles of sweets, clothes, shoes etc until only few presents remained at the bottom of your pile. Wrapping paper was discarded messily around you both, scrunched up on the bed. You sighed as you set another box of chocolate frogs down on top of the many others, “I can’t wait anymore, Fred. I’ve got to open yours, now.”

He chuckled, raising his eyebrows at your impatience as he carelessly chucked a new jumper behind him. “I guess the best doesn’t always have to be saved.” He reached behind him into the desk by his bed, pulling out a small parcel neatly wrapped in paper, a ribbon delicately tied around it. Fred set the parcel in front of you, his jumper sleeves baggy and almost creating mittens of their own. You smiled giddily, excitement creeping back up as you took the present into your lap and took great care to undo all of it.

Underneath the first layer of wrapping was a wooden box decorated with golden engravings, a picture of a deer carefully drawn on. A little latch held the lip closed, and once you opened it a small golden chain glittered up at you. The charm attached was in the shape of small deer antlers, little diamonds glistening at the ends and in between like drops of snow. You looked up from the necklace to Fred, eyes wide and lips parted. “Fred…”

He interrupted, the usual playfulness in his voice but a hint of red on his cheeks. “They’re deer antlers. Because, you know, you’re ‘dear’ to me.”

You made a teasing cringe face while laughing, still admiring the beauty and simplicity of it. “It must have cost you a fortune.”

“That’s the first thing you think of?”

You laughed, “No, of course not. I love it! You didn’t have to spend so much on me, Fred.” You took it from its box, letting it dangle gently between your fingers. You quietened your voice, as if anything louder might break the fragile diamonds or the thin branches of gold. “I love it, thank you.”

The gift you got for him was opened afterwards, thank you’s in the form of kisses all over your face as he admired the array of rings you brought him. All silver, all thick and all hot on his fingers. One had his name engraved, another had a secret message of ‘from your sexy girlfriend’ on the inside, and the final one was just plain and simple. “I thought you could do with something to remind you of me aaaall the time.” You said, dragging out the syllables as you poked his face playfully.

Fred grinned, and you noted how handsome he looked with his hair messy and clothes lazy. “Like I’m not already thinking of you - aaaall the time.”

He turned to check behind him, “Is that everything?”

“Yeah, think so.” You replied, smacking your hand down on what was your bag of presents to make sure it’s empty. You straightened. Your fingers hit something hard, something lost at the bottom of the bag beneath all the wrapping paper. You furrowed your brows as you reached in, ruffling around and finding a black parcel that camouflaged itself in the fabric.

You exchanged a look with Fred before shrugging and opening it, a small tingle in your chest at the thought of a final surprise to open. This must’ve been from your parents or something, just a final parcel that you forgot to open at home.

It was creased around the edges, and you almost didn’t remember who would be so particularly careless with their wrapping until you saw what was inside. A hardcover book was under an extra layer of black wrapping paper, white leather with silver detailing. It was the title that caught your attention, the italic writing in bold.

‘How to Deal With Someone Being Better Than You.’

Supposedly it was meant to be one of those self care books that helped struggling people, but you knew that the sender didn’t mean for it to help you. You smiled down at it, biting your bottom lip as you suppressed a stupid laugh at the message behind it. Idiot, you thought, cheeks trying not to swell up as you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Didn’t I just kick your ass at those exams?

The idea of buying presents came when you were in hogsmeade one day (obviously not together) and the twins’ joke shop had created a new pen that wrote perfectly until the writer left it for an hour - then, the person who brought the pen would be able to manipulate it into what they wanted it to say. McGonagall wasn’t very amused when you’d turned in an essay that detailed why Draco was the most attractive and successful in the wizarding world, a range of colourful swear words thrown in to really sell it. After you tried getting back at him with a quill that exploded ink whenever used, it had started the small exchange that you two did every occasional that called for presents. Draco’s present was thoughtless, an obvious present to buy when you both had the ‘relationship’ you did. But you still…you liked it.

But yours was better.

A throat cleared itself just as you carefully opened the cover to inspect the inside, causing you to shut it abruptly before you could read the small bit of writing on the inside. Idiot, you thought again. You completely forgot where you were.

You sheepishly smiled at Fred, tucking the book back into your bag without taking your eyes off him. He raised his eyebrows in forced entertainment, “Who’s it from?”

He probably knew. You shrugged. “Not important.”

Fred might’ve questioned you - probably should’ve asked about that book, had every right to as your boyfriend - but he didn’t. Instead, he eyed where the book was moments ago with contemplation behind his eyes. And then he looked at you.

And he decided to kiss you. He was pulling you closer as you automatically tied your hands into his hair, making it messier with no shame while you were glad for a reason to forget about the book. To forget about why you felt such a strong urge to smile when you saw it, when you remembered who it was from. To forget about how you wanted to apparate straight to his manor and remind him who had won those exams, and then see his reaction to what you had brought him.

You were confused at all of that. You were confused why you were still thinking about that book when Fred was kissing you. You were confused why you suddenly weren’t in control of your own emotions anymore - especially when you placed your hands on his chest and pulled away. You were confused why you didn’t like the idea of kissing your boyfriend as much as you liked getting 99% in exams.

His eyes were worried, soft at the edges as he stayed quiet a moment and then softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

You pursed your lips and swallowed, hard. “I’m sorry. Nothing. Sorry, I just, I don’t know what’s wrong I just don - ”

Hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, stabling you as he shushed your blabbering and told you it was okay. He put a hand on your cheek and forced you to look at him, “Y/N, let’s just watch a film or something, yeah? It’s no problem, I can wait.”

You looked at him, watching as his eyes flickered between both of yours and showed no disappointment or anger at all. He was so good to you. You nodded.

He cleared the bed of wrapping paper and started playing a film, leaning against his headboard and wrapping his arm around you as you leant your head against his chest. You kept thinking, kept being confused as his finger started drawing mindless patterns on your shoulder, and wondered if there was something wrong with you when he whispered, “For you, I’ll wait as long as you need.”

[hellohellook]

DM. DEADLINE

part two

in which a pretty girl who helps him complete his homework is much more important than he originally knew

see here for part one

Stern eyes looked over thin spectacles, and the tapping of her slender finger against her arm made him almost nervous.

“And where is your assignment, Mr. Malfoy?”

He suppressed a gulp, and gestured to his empty desk instead. “I don’t have it.”

Draco couldn’t bring himself to hand it in. Not when it had been the last thing you had helped him with. He couldn’t give it in - not because it was you, your handwriting, your words, your work - but because he just wouldn’t feel right. How could you ever look him in the eye again if he used the very thing that broke you two apart to help himself?

He felt eyes from the students around him staring. This essay meant the difference between passing charms, or failing. He had skipped the ones prior out of sheer laziness, but his plan had been to find a ravenclaw’s help from the start, and once he found you it had gone so smooth. It had all been perfect - until he’d ruined it.

He’d ruined it by falling in love.

He stared at his desk, ignoring the tapping finger, the silence of disappointment, the staring eyes. He felt particularly scrutinised today, as if he’d never been stared at like this in his life. He hoped it was because you were looking his way, too. He hoped that you’d catch him after class and tell him to hand in the assignment, to meet you in the library again, to find you once more. He hoped that once he looked up from his desk, he’d meet your eyes.

“I’m disappointed in you, Draco. I assume you know the importance of this essay? I am sure your father would be most disappointed of all, to hear how his son had been slacking off of his homework.”

He shrugged. It was the most he could give in reply, otherwise he might start spewing apologies in front of the whole class because he knew you were only across the room, and his thoughts were swimming with ways to phrase it.

Professor McGonagall clicked her tongue, and inhaled deeply as if considering, planning, and calming herself down. “I’ll give you until the end of this month, Draco. If you still fail to hand it in, I will fail you.”

Her words clicked on his mind - an extension. McGonagall never gave extensions. Until the end of this month…

A week left was what he had.

He wasn’t a bad student, he wasn’t just being lazy, and perhaps she knew that. Perhaps this was the greatest opportunity he’d ever had this year. Perhaps…this was a sign to get you back.

Before the deadline ended.

Draco looked up from his desk, and met too many pairs of eyes. They stared, all with a blank look that he recognised from his own bored expressions during classes, and yet he couldn’t find any familiarity amongst them. He drifted his gaze to you, remembering the notes he’d sent that way to arrange study session, notes he now kicked himself over and wished they were love letters instead, and didn’t find you staring back at him.

And ever since that day in the library, he never did.

-

A candle on the oak table casted a single flickering shadow against the wall, a lonesome reminder of how empty the library was at this hour. Not empty of people, he thought, as his eyes trailed from the books, to the dust covered desks, to the students spotted around the room. Empty of you.

He pushed that thought away, a sense of anger rising in his chest appearing whenever he thought too hard about what had happened. Draco almost didn’t regret it, not when he had so much to gain from it all - assignments, boosts in his grades, the feelings that hit him along the way. Using you was worth it, if only it got him close to you in the first place. But when he thought about it too hard, when he neared that exit of denial, he felt a sort of self-loathing that he’d never felt before.

There seemed to be a pattern with you, he noticed. He was always feeling, seeing, thinking things that he’d never done before.

He missed it. He missed you.

And, as he found that his essay was not writing itself, he realised with a smile that he ironically missed your help.

That was why the candle was snuffed out, his parchment shoved into his bag, his legs pacing all the way down the halls. Up the stairs, avoiding the trick stairs, through the walls hung high with paintings, and towards the ravenclaw common rooms.

He fought against the urge to knock against the door, to call you to him like he really wanted to do. Instead, Draco pulled out a small note from his bag, and slipped it under the oak door. It would find your room - it knew exactly how to. The enchantment would bring it straight to you, just like all of him ached to do.

-

Remnants of the late afternoon stole in through the latticed window panes, your back aching after a long day of classes. Your bag remained thrown by the door, stuffed to the brim with assignments, half due and half completed. With a wince at the thought of all you had to do, you pushed that idea away and exhaled all the worries of homework away - as well as the boy that drifted along those thoughts. Instead, you decided the bed looked much more welcoming.

You were within the sheets in minutes, the pillows soft beneath your heavy head, the blankets…papery? A crinkling sound echoed after your movements, and you shuffled around in confusion. There’s no way you’d forgotten something in here, was there?

Your hand dug around until meeting a piece of parchment, cleverly folded into the shape of a bird. It must’ve been enchanted to come here. How did it know to find you?

Before you unfolded it, a feeling that you wished wasn’t so like hope enveloped you. You recognised the neatness that it was done with. The precision. The ideas, the cunning motive behind such a beautiful piece of work.

You’d recognise it anywhere. You spent months tutoring the person that left those prints.

It unfolded easily. The writing was just as neat as you remembered.

The note read, ‘ravenclaws are known for being intelligent - for the sake of this idiotic slytherin, will you consider forgiveness?’

You stared at the words as if they might change. As if there was a long apology sprawled across the page, a confession and an admittance of being wrong all in one long essay, and not just the asking of forgiveness. A heaviness pulled against you, your head suddenly heavier than tire had made it before, and you let it fall backwards against the headboard with a sigh.

You wanted to grant this writer’s wish. You wanted to write a letter back, letting your heart sing into the ink instead of avoiding the places you loved, the person you —

You shut down that thought before it could end. It was ruined. How could he expect you to be so foolish as to be used again? God knows how the entire class is aware that he needs to submit that damned assignment essay; you would not be his ghostwriter anymore.

No relief came from screwing it up and throwing it into the waste bin beside your desk - in fact, the only feeling you got from it was annoyance at the poor aim, the ball of paper bouncing off the edge and landing inches from the bin.

It hurt more than you allowed yourself to recognise at the realisation that, although you were aching over wanting him, he was aching over wanting someone to use.

At least, it was what you thought. It was all he had given you to believe, how could you think otherwise? And it was that thought that lulled you to sleep, the words ‘user’ and ‘foolish’ painting ugly dreams all through the night.

-

With two days dripping by like the wax of his candle, Draco couldn’t take the silence anymore. Not an absence of sound - not with all his slytherin friends crowding near him in the common rooms and talking about whatever was important to them at that moment - but an absence of reply.

He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the doors to the common rooms, his chin rested on his palm the entire time, blankly watching the wood with soft eyes. He’d stared so much, he kept imagining the white note that might slip underneath it. He’d almost jumped out of his seat twice, only to find nothing there but emerald carpet, and the need to blink his dry, delusional eyes.

He was going crazy. He must be. Draco Malfoy did not worry over girls like this - or anyone, for that matter. Never mind someone he was using for his own purposes.

He hated the feelings you evoked in him. He hated feeling so unable to get what he wanted. Not just that, he hated the due date that had sunken into his mind, driving his every decision in getting closer to you once more. It was hard enough admitting to himself that he might be falling into a deeper well than just of infatuations, it was even harder admitting that he had found something worth working for.

Someone worth fighting for.

Two days closer to the deadline. He could imagine the finishing line - a white ribbon stretched taunt, waiting to be broken.

He had to do it. If not to get you back, then to just prove to himself that he could.

-

Draco might’ve felt bad for the way he treated Blaise that day, but as he watched him saunter to the ravenclaw’s dining table at lunch, he wish he’d been worse.

The tall slytherin barely glanced at the boy who sat beside you before he was scuttling out of his seat, and Blaise was squeezing in beside you with a grin.

Draco clutched his cutlery as he watched you greet him with a smile - so it was bad when he did it, but if Blaise had tried to use you it was all okay? Granted, Blaise hasn’t handed in homework since last year, nor was he apparently planning on handing anything in anytime soon. But…still, it wasn’t like Blaise hadn’t tried his luck with you. The only difference between them was that Draco had succeeded. And…that Draco had taken more than he’d originally wanted.

But, as he steamed with jealousy that he wouldn’t admit to himself, watching his friend smile at you and, worse, you smile back, he considered if the latter was only unique to him, or if Blaise was really turning into his competitor.

He was four days in, the third last day creeping towards the deadline.

Draco stood from his chair, and prepared himself for his next task.

-

As you looked at the boyish smile of Blaise Zabini, trying not to read too much into the glint behind his eyes, you listened to not a single word he said. Instead, you cursed yourself internally for expecting a different slytherin, and felt like kicking yourself silly at the disappointment.

“I heard the snow has already settled in hogsmeade, care to test the rumours?”

You laughed softly. He wasn’t so bad, Blaise. After all you’d heard, you’d assumed that he’d been just like his friend - but then you thought on it, and realised you’d never given him an ounce of help in all those months. And yet, despite that, he was still trying so hard to…well, what was he doing? Get friendly? Get closer?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t bad. It was, perhaps, rather nice. Thoughts of Blaise would’ve been welcomed, if only a blond haired prat didn’t take up that space before he could get there.

“We’re already going this weekend, Zabini. Alone.” You replied, gesturing to your friends around the table. He playfully pouted in response, something that could’ve been incredibly disgusting if wasn’t on such a handsome face. You rolled your eyes sarcastically, “But, I suppose, you could come. If you really wanted to.”

“I think I like the first option better.”

Both heads looked up from the table.

Draco Malfoy stood there, and you drank in all that you could of his face in the split second you allowed yourself to look at him. Then you turned, jaw clenched, chest constricting.

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?”

Draco hated the way you looked at him, the way you only glanced at him for a second before looking away. Did you not feel so consumed with the need to be near each other like he did? He could’ve admired you for what felt like hours, and yet you couldn’t even hold eye contact now. His jaw clenched, chest constricting. He’d done this.

And now he was going to undo it.

“Snape was looking for you. Something about your last assignment.”

You looked back to him, but not with any expression that he wanted you to display - expressions that might’ve been reflected on his own. Instead, you looked almost worried, panicked, and he nearly felt bad for tainting that pretty face with such emotions. Nearly.

This was part of his plan to fix things.

He kept his voice light, casual, cool. Like he had better things to do. “Yeah, I’m supposed to take you there after lunch.” He gestured to the empty plate before you and then subtly to the boy beside you, and said, “But it looks like nothing important is going on, so let’s just go now.”

You looked to be contemplating something, but eventually got up from the bench without a look in his direction, and led the way out of the hall. He glanced to Blaise, a glint in his eyes.

Draco smirked.

-

The hall to the dungeons was only short, the end of many other long and twisted halls. This part of the castle was made of stone, and it was purely the drop in temperature that made you stand closer to him. You didn’t want to let yourself be so near Draco, but you couldn’t help it. Whenever he was there, whenever you saw his face or even heard his name, your mind started making excuses for him as if your own body was rejecting this distance.

And it really did feel unbearable sometimes, especially when all you wanted after a long day of classes was to fold yourself in the corner of the library and expect that handsome boy to arrive at any moment. Such a comfortable routine, such sweet sensations that he invoked from you - surely something that felt so good couldn’t have been so bad?

“Y/N,” he started, his deep voice echoing against stone.

You turned your head and hummed dully in response.

“Snape doesn’t actually want to see you.”

His hand was suddenly reaching out, fingers holding onto your arm, and he was pulling you to him. Draco swiftly turned you into the alcove in the wall, your back gently hitting a cold wall. The candles didn’t quite reach this dip, similar to a small cave that would’ve been missed by passerbyers unless someone looked directly in.

Your eyes widened, hardly comprehending what was happening, what he was saying, before his tall figure was before you and he was looking at you with such intensity that you hardly cared.

A familiar look. You’d seen it before - in whenever you’d catch him watching you instead of the books.

His hand slowly rose, his other helping to stable you in a sneaky hold on your waist, and he softly tucked your hair behind your ear. His fingers scraping the shell of your ear made it so hard not to shiver, especially when his hand was so warm and the dungeons were cold and you were so…so missing this.

“I lied.”

His voice was quiet, as if any louder would make you push him away. Like you had any self control in that moment, his eyes on you again, his smell enveloping you once more.

“I just needed to get you alone.”

You wanted to gulp in surprise, but just barely suppressed it.

“I just needed to talk to you.”

The confessions came like rainfall, each word softer than the last. Each sentence lovelier.

“Y/N,”

Your legs were shaking, threatening to give out. You hated how your body was rejecting everything your mind was screaming, how you ached to be so close to him that you hardly remembered why you were mad at him in the first place.

“I’m sorry.”

And as the only words that you’d wanted to hear left his lips, your heart swelled. You were going crazy, really.

But it was so easy to say.

Anyone could spit an apology out, and you were not going to be so easy to mould again.

You played along. You smiled, although the move felt easier than acting.

You could see his eyes light up. He thought he won? He thought you were going to forgive him with just two words, and go back to doing his homework for him? He thought you were going to admit how you had fallen in love with him?

He didn’t see how the smile turned cunning. He didn’t see the next words coming.

“How many days left do you have for your assignment, Draco?”

His face dropped, and suddenly his pulse was thudding in his ears. "What?"

You sighed, letting your hand raise and then slowly draping your fingers down his arm. As if you were soothing him, like a lover would. You looked up at him with sweet eyes, "That's what you want, isn't it? Help on your assignment?"

You felt the shiver that chilled down him at your touch, and a curling sensation clutched your heart at the effect you had on him. You didn't dare think too much into it, didn't dare let hope cloud your thoughts.

He shook his head, slowly yet desperately. "No, I - ''

"Because it's not going to happen. I'm not your doll anymore, Draco."

You didn't know, he thought. You didn't know how much you meant to him, how much he longed to grip your hands and intertwine them with his and shout to the whole world that he was sorry. That he was an idiot. That he'd fail all his classes again and again if only you stopped looking at him like that.

Of course you didn't know - how would you? Had he ever done anything that implied he wanted more from you than to use you?

He blinked stupidly, already wracking through thousands of things to say and do, but you sighed once more and used that hand to push him aside, and step past him. And he let you. He let you push him out of your way as if he was nothing but a piece of cloth, because he was stupefied with realisation of just how much he'd done.

Of how difficult it was to get you back, and the little time he had left to do it.

Your steps sounded out lightly as you walked away - and Draco stayed staring at the empty space in the alcove, even after you left.

-

Blaise draped an arm around your shoulders, casual and cool. You made yourself smile, even though you felt like you were being unfaithful.

It annoyed you to no end that you seemed to have no control over your own emotions anymore, even when Draco wasn't in the room, and so you took the boy's hand and linked his together with yours. "What brings you here so late, anyway?"

The ravenclaw common rooms were usually peaceful and empty, even an hour before curfew. But here Blaise was, hours after curfew, sneaking in to sit on the great lounge before the fireplace with you.

He grinned, "To visit you, of course."

You breathed out a laugh. "At this hour? Couldn't you wait until tomorrow? Or, I don't know, come earlier?"

He nudged you with the arm that snaked over your shoulders, a smile playing on his face. Blaise liked you - he really did. He thought you were smart. Top of the class. And it really was such a plus that you were so pretty, too. And, as he'd learnt, you seemed to be quite easy.

"I was in detention with old flitwick."

You looked at him, crossing your brows. "What did you do?"

He cocked his head in a nonchalant manner, smirking to himself like it was nothing. "Just slacking off, I guess. The man’s had enough of it."

You slowly nodded. You didn't realise a slytherin could be so unbothered about his grades - they were usually ravenclaw's biggest competitors.

"What about you? What did you do today, pretty thing?"

You smiled at the nickname, then the words flashed in your mind and your chest clenched at their familiarity. Draco used to call you that.

"I spent most of it in the library, studying." You replied, swallowing hard at the memory. At the memory's bestfriend, sat beside you at this late hour.

Blaise inhaled, as if remembering something. "Oh, you're right. Studying. That reminds me."

The arm suddenly left your shoulders, the warm presence drifting away as he leaned over the lounge to reach for something, and returned with a bag in hand. He pulled parchment from it, and then looked at you. He grinned.

"I need help with this essay, it's kicking my ass. So...have you done your transfiguration assignment this week, ravenclaw?"

The words registered in your mind, slowly. Like a poison or a curse, seeping into your brain and nearly numbing your limbs. Not again. Not the exact same words that Draco had used. Not his bestfriend. Not again.

You shivered with an emotion of red, but it felt so distant that you could hardly feel it. You knew nothing but your own naiveness, your own frustration, your own anger.

Your voice was near silent as you spoke, nearly swallowed by the crackling of the fire. "Get out."

Perhaps he really didn't hear you, perhaps he was just surprised. He asked, "What?"

You turned to him, and blinked. You couldn't believe you'd fallen for it again. Something snapped, and you reached for the papers in his hand. You threw them at him, scrunching them together and putting all your frustrations into it. "Get out, get out, get out! Fucking get out."

His hands rose to shield himself from the parchment, and then looked at you with surprise lighting up his eyes.

With a hastiness about his every movement, he scrambled for the loose pieces of paper and stuffed them into his bag. He slung it over his shoulder, "What else did you think I was here for, Y/N?"

Your glare sent him pacing off to the doors, and they swung open with ease. They slammed shut the next moment, and the room was suddenly smaller than it had been moments ago. The air was pulled tight. Your breathing was heavy, uneven, fast.

On the other side of the corridor, Blaise was rushing back to his dorms. He was right - that look was lethal, and he was running in the opposite direction now that it was for him.

Perhaps you weren't as easy as he first assumed.

-

Lunch was quieter the next day without Blaise coming over and flirting with you. In fact, the entire day was quieter without him lingering around class, the halls, the common rooms.

Actually, maybe quieter wasn’t the right word. Whatever it was, you noticed a strange sense of relief that you’d gotten rid of him. Whatever you two had going on, it definitely wasn’t stemmed from emotions. He’d only served to help distract you from some thoughts of Draco, but if anything, he only did things to remind you of him.

Perhaps both of you were using each other.

On the other side of the hall, Draco had noticed how much louder the slytherin table was today. In fact, the entire day had been livelier with his friend back in the circle, now not constantly trailing after you all day.

Whatever had happened, he felt a weight of relief that it had.

-

He had two days left. The night grew darker with winter, a black seeping through the window that seemed to be a bad omen. Despite that, despite the shiver that ran through him at the cold alone, he brought his hand to the set of oak doors and knocked. The second to last day was already slipping out of his hands.

And he knew you were here. Who else would be awake at this time, if not spending it in the library, then studying in their common rooms?

Indeed, as the doors opened, it was that pretty face that greeted him. Draco saw you first, then saw the sheets of paper sprawled out on the table in the background. You were avoiding the library - no, you were avoiding him.

He looked to your face, and wished the moment to slow down. He relished in the split second before recognition sparked your face - before that horrible, angry expression took over your pretty features - and pretended that it lasted a lifetime. That you had opened the door expecting him, waiting for him. Anticipating him.

You blinked at him, then leant against the door frame with an unimpressed stare. “Let me guess. Need help with the essay?”

Draco really did try to fight against it, but he couldn’t help the wince at your words. Simple, and lethal. And there was that look in your eyes again.

“I do, actually. I was wondering if you might offer any?”

Your eyes almost widened, and a sort of disgusted surprise crossed your face. You straightened and moved to slam the door shut, but his hand slapped against the wood to stop it at the last minute. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You could here the desperation in his voice. The wordless ask for a second chance.

The force against the door stilled, your face blocked from view, but he could tell you were contemplating again. Hesitating. He searched for the right words. “I just need five minutes.”

To convince you to forgive him? To beg you to forgive him? To make excuses?

“Five.” He repeated, and suddenly you were opening the door.

The common rooms were like a mirror of the slytherin ones, blue in place of green. It was magnificent, majestic, and it reminded him of you.

You took a seat at the large table where your homework was spread, where a quill lay forgotten in a pot of ink. He paused for a moment, and took the seat opposite you.

It tugged at your chest. It was always him beside you, and as you looked to the fireplace that flickered behind him, casting an orange glow on the gentle edges of his face, shadowing his masculine features in a way that made him look beautiful, you couldn’t deny it at that point. You missed him. You were tired of it, and prayed that he just said the right words. Prayed that he meant them.

Draco sat in his seat, feeling rigid and odd to be so far away from you. He never sat so far away, not when seats next to you were so much more appealing. Anywhere but your side felt too far away, and it felt even further now. He hoped you could tell how much he meant his words as he said once more, “I’m sorry.”

If you could tell how difficult it was for him to utter an apology, you didn’t show it. You’d had three so far - three more than he’d ever given in his life.

When you didn’t reply, he reached into his robes and pulled a thick scroll of parchment. Then he pulled a small book out, the one you’d thrown at his feet that day in the library, and you noticed how the spine was much more creased than you’d left it.

The timetable you made him.

He’d used it.

But what was the scroll?

With a gentle touch, he started unravelling the paper. Amongst the beige, lines and lines of writing neatly lay against it. You recognised that writing.

Your eyes snapped up to his, a question lingering in that blank gaze of yours.

He nodded, and offered you the pieces of paper.

You took it as he spoke in a low voice, “It’s my charms essay.”

You saw the pretty handwriting that signed his name at the top, the date that read a few days ago. You felt your heart constricting as you read the title, as you flicked through the six pages, each one filled double sided with writing. With an essay that he did himself.

If he was doing his own assignments, why was he here? Why was he putting all this effort in to get your forgiveness, if he wasn’t here for help?

You knew the answer, but asked him anyway. “Why did you say you needed my help?”

He sheepishly smiled, a tinge of shyness hiding behind such a familiar expression of his. “Would you proof read it? I might be wrong, but I heard ravenclaws are the smartest.”

You breathed out a laugh, and felt yourself forgiving him.

Draco looked at you, and when you looked back he recognised the look in your eyes. So familiar. He’d seen that look before - you used to look at him like that, before all this had happened. The eyes of people who were in love.

Only now, he was sure it reflected in his own.

“And why ask this ravenclaw, of all others?” You asked, a small smile dancing across your lips.

He wanted to reach out closer, ached to see you closer, longed to feel you closer. And so he got up, and smoothly sat himself in the seat beside you. Your eyes followed his movements, and his arm drifted on the back of your chair as he turned his figure to you. You felt your body responding in the same way, both of you facing each other, essay sprawled out before you.

His free hand flicked through the papers, and stopped at the last page. Draco grinned at you, and nodded his head to wherever his hand was gesturing to.

You looked down, and noticed a line at the end of the entire essay.

The note read, ‘I’ll be honest, ravenclaws aren’t really my thing. But I heard you were the smartest, and it just so happens I have a thing for you.’

[hellohellook]

DM. HOMEWORK HELP

part one

see here for part two

in which he needs help with his assignments, and a pretty girl seems just the person person to do that

A paper bird landed on your desk, covering the potions recipe you were trying to memorise. Your head lifted, but no one was around your corner of the library.

The crinkling of paper unfolding seemed like a disturbance against the quiet of the room, but at least you had something to distract yourself from studying.

The note read, ‘I’ve always had a thing for ravenclaws.’

A low voice cleared his throat. A handsome slytherin stood beside you, someone you didn’t recognise but might’ve seen around the halls if you really thought hard enough.

He smirked, and slid into the seat beside you with ease. An arm rested on the back of your chair, his chin resting on his other hand. Lazy, charming, and all too professional - he must have been used to this sort of thing.

You shot him an unimpressed look, glancing at his arm. “Do I know you?”

His smile faltered and he shuffled to sit upright, but caught himself and cooly replied, “My mistake, ravenclaw. I’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. You…” he paused, cleared his throat, and asked, “haven’t heard of me?”

Even though you couldn’t help finding him attractive, all you could think was who did this guy think he was? “No, sorry. Should I?”

He breathed out a chuckle and leant in closer, trying to shift your focus from the blond boy beside you to your textbooks again. “There’s plenty of time to get to know me, don’t worry, Y/N.”

You stiffened.

He laughed, “Yeah, and I’m trying to get to know you. I have a thing for ravenclaws.” He tilted his head so that he was peering into your vision. “I have a thing for you.”

Your heart started thumping harder.

You felt the hot flush on your cheeks before you saw the grin on his face, and it would’ve irritated you if you weren’t too busy keeping the embarrassing blush down.

His knee nudged yours from beneath the desk, teasing and playful.

Draco leaned closer, and gestured to your books. “Studying hard?”

Perhaps he changed subject for your blooming face’s sake or he was just making conversation, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

You nodded, “Potions.”

He inhaled through his teeth, a sound as if he’d just remembered something and cringed. “That’s crazy, I was just coming here to find something to help with potions. Snape is being an ass this week.”

You smiled at his words, still focusing on the textbook. He’d grown on you in the few minutes you’d known him. If he was here to study, that meant he might leave any moment…and for some reason, that thought tugged at your chest as if your heart was willing you to prevent it. You tapped the quill against the page. You felt his eyes on your actions, on your fingers, on you.

It wouldn’t hurt to help him. It wouldn’t be selfish to keep the boy beside you for a little longer if it meant you were also helping him - and, besides, the library was so cold, and his tall figure was so warm.

You looked up at him, the blue in his eyes glinting under the candlelight. “Would you…like some help?”

Draco grinned.

-

When he rounded the corner, completed potions homework in hand, Blaise met him on the other side with a question lingering in his eyes.

“Did you get them?”

Draco slapped down on his extended hand in a high five, “Yeah, I got them. She was easy.”

Blaise chuckled, “Come on, mate. I need to fill out my questions, now.”

Draco pulled the papers away from his prying hands, “Are you joking? I didn’t go through all this effort just for you to copy me. Get your own girl to copy answers from.”

Blaise parted his mouth in shock, “You said she was easy.”

“Yeah, but I’m not. What are you giving me for my answers?”

He scowled, but shrugged and started towards the library. “Fine, I’ll just have to try my own luck with Y/N. She sounds simple enough.”

Draco’s hand shot out, grabbing his friend to halt his approach to you.

Both pairs of eyes stared at his hand, and Blaise gave Draco a strange look. “What?”

He didn’t even know himself. Something about the thought of Blaise approaching you, when you had seemed so…so…well, there was just something that had made Draco genuinely enjoy sitting besides you apart from getting his answers.

And he just didn’t feel like sharing.

Draco slammed the papers against Blaise’s chest, who’s hands came out to grab them as he watched Draco stalk back down the corridors, departing with a grumbled, “Just copy it.”

His brows crossed. What was up with him?

-

The halls were silent, and Draco was creeping along them. His robes concealed books, parchment, quills for two. He kept his steps quiet, his eyes wary for teachers and prefects, but he couldn’t help the apprehension in each movement as he made his way closer to the ravenclaw common rooms.

During Charms, a simple, sneaky letter was all it took after the professor had announced the essay due the next day to arrange a last minute study date. He had you blushing across the classroom as you read the note, your fingers curled around the edges as if stifling your anticipation.

Anticipation that he now found himself mirroring, down the hallways and all the way to the knock at the door. He desperately needed help with this essay - if only because all the previous ones he’d skipped and for his grade’s sake, he couldn’t afford to skip another one - so it was just his luck that he had you. And the fact that you were pretty…well, it was definitely a plus. It gave him something to look at when the books became too boring.

It was that pretty face that greeted him at the doors.

You shushed him in and extended your hand, guiding him through to the quietness of your dorms. Candlelight and a distant moonshine lit up the otherwise dark room, and Draco noticed for the first time how your eyes shined brighter under the night. The light that beamed behind your smile as you looked up at him.

He’d seen that look before, in many other girls before you.

He didn’t mean for anything to come by this. Originally, he only needed someone to think they were liked by him, someone infatuated enough to hand over any help he might need - he couldn’t have cared less if you fell in love along the way. Now, he found himself feeling bad for stringing you along. For using you for his academic successes.

And, even more confusingly, he felt bad for the strange feelings he had whenever he glanced at that pretty face.

-

He smiled down at the girl at her desk, and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Hello, Y/N.”

You looked up, already knowing who it was from the gentle touch of his hand, and smiled back. “Hello, Draco. Here for more homework help, or just had enough of those friends of yours?”

He chuckled as he slid into the chair beside you - never opposite, as he always felt it was somehow too far - and remembered how just last visit he’d somehow started ranting about his friends who annoyed him in some way or other, and how you’d listened patiently the entire time. He hadn’t even realised his mouth had opened and his minor secret had spilled, but apparently you had somehow made him unaware enough to tell it.

“Both. And, I just missed you.”

He grinned at the way your smile shrunk into a shy expression, how your cheeks flushed up just at such simple, easy words.

Getting his homework done had never been easier.

“So have you done your charms assignment this week, ravenclaw?”

You nodded, sorting through the books in front of you before holding out a blue one and gesturing it to him. “Here, I completed it just a few hours ago. The dissertation was fairly easy, but apparently you need all the help you can get.”

Your words were playfully sarcastic, and you felt a sense of inner accomplishment as Draco beamed at the help you were offering - you couldn’t help but find yourself enjoying these visits more and more. A part of you had started intrusively thinking - hoping, perhaps wishing - that he was using homework as an excuse to meet you.

There couldn’t be another reason for the coincidence of always having homework troubles when seeing each other.

Either way, your heart had gradually grown fond of the boy. Against your own will, it had started fluttering at his warm presence. At his gentle touch. At his lovely, increasingly familiar scent.

You hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Originally, you had expected him to just be bored - perhaps even lonely - and had just happened to find you in the library and thought to bother. Instead, you dared imagine that…perhaps you were in the process of something more.

Something that you had never seen before.

Your fingers played with the corner of your textbook and tried to ignore his burning stare on the side of your face. He tucked your offered work away, but didn’t make to leave.

Instead, he watched your fingers delicately trace the book and tried to ignore your absent stare, wishing it would meet his.

And it did. You looked up at him, “Do you need help with something else?”

He felt something heavy settle with your words, as if he was disappointed that you only assumed he was here for the homework. But then again, he was. So what was his problem?

Draco cleared his throat and went to reply, but then a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He first looked to you, to your eyes that glanced behind him up at whoever it was.

He turned his head over his shoulder, to the tall figure that stood there.

“Blaise, what do you want?”

Instead of responding to him - or even looking at him - Blaise was looking at you. Draco recognised the look in his eye, the pleasant surprise that the smartest girl in the year was also a sight to please.

His expression turned sultry as he slid into the chair opposite you, and Draco almost kicked him under the table when he grinned and said, “Hello, Y/N. I thought you’d be here.”

You raised your eyebrows, surprised at his sudden attention. Blaise leaned his chin onto his hand and lazily smiled, “I’m stuffing it in old McGonagall’s class and thought I’d find some help here. Who would’ve thought I’d also find such a pretty thing like you, too?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. The help he was referring to was you, why was he acting like he wasn’t here with ulterior motives? And, who did he think he was to try and flirt with you?

Before you could even respond, Draco stood from his chair. “Blaise, I found something that’ll help you with McGonagall’s assignment.”

The tall boy tore his eyes from you and crossed his brows, signalling a complaint with his expression that only another guy would get - mate, what the hell? I’m trying to chat up this girl.

“What is it?” Blaise asked.

Draco clenched his fists and fought against dragging him up by his collar and far away from you - only because he’d worked hard to find someone who could help him with all his work, and he just…didn’t feel like sharing. That was it. That’s all it was.

He clenched his teeth, not trusting himself to talk without spitting an insult at his longtime bestfriend. Instead, he angled his head towards the rows and rows of books to the side of them.

Blaise feigned idiocy and slowly turned to look to the shelves, then back to Draco. The laugh his next reply invoked from you made Draco’s jaw twitch in suppressed words, “I didn’t know you could read, Draco.”

So he was funny, now?

You found him funny, now?

If anyone else, perhaps it wouldn’t have bothered him so much. But he knew Blaise was only using you - not like he was, that was different and mutually beneficial in keeping you both entertained and up to date with assignments - and that enraged him.

He rounded the side of the table and couldn’t hide the forceful grip in his hand as he clapped a hand around Blaise’s shoulder, and then pulled him up by his robes with a gritted, “Come on, mate.”

You watched the boys go, disappointment at the empty space beside you.

-

Draco did everything in his self-control to not shove him into the shelves, but somehow Blaise still ended up having to stable himself with a hand against the books with a look of confused irritation plastered on his face.

His stupid, stupid face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck? It was going so great, what a - ”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

He furrowed his brows and scoffed, “Getting help with my assignment, duh.”

Draco lowered his voice as if you could hear him from across the library, “And why are you trying it with my girl?”

He caught himself just after the words were out, but it was too late. Blaise’s eyes widened and he almost spluttered out something no-doubt stupid, but Draco quickly corrected himself. “My girl who helps me. With my homework.”

Blaise looked at him strangely. “If you had a thing for her, you could’ve just said. I would’ve backed off. I mean, shit, it’s easy enough to find a ‘claw around here.”

He shook his head fiercely, “No, Zabini. I don’t have a thing for her.”

His friend let out an exasperated sigh, as if this was harder to understand than McGonagall’s assignment. “You could just talk to her, you know. If you lik - ”

“I don’t fucking like her.” He spat out, his eyes narrowing to a glare. Blaise was taken aback by the fury behind his words, but the boy knew better than to believe that it was aimed at him. Draco was angry with himself - and maybe, just maybe, he could guess why.

He took a step forward, away from the shelves. A smirk danced on his lips. “Good.” Draco’s eyes snapped to his, an anxious confusion behind his angry expression. Blaise continued, drawling every word with a sort of malicious slur, “Because Y/N looks to be wanting something more than just a study partner. And,” the side of his lip twitched in a look that made Draco’s rile burn up his skin, “I’d be more than happy replacing you.”

Draco’s hands were grabbing his collar, stuffing his friend against the bookshelves and gripping with a anger that didn’t even feel like his own before he could fathom why he felt like this. Why he was so angry, so confused, so…jealous.

Blaise found it within himself to laugh, straight up egging him into a confession by taunting, “You’re fucked, mate.”

“What are you talking about, Zabini?”

Blaise grinned, despite the tightening grip on his collar. He knew what caused this state of his friend. He had seen this look before, in the eyes of girls that trailed after them. The eyes of you who stole glances at him during class. The eyes of Draco, who stole glances back.

He had seen this look before - in people who fell in love.

“Why won’t you do something about it, instead of being such a - ”

Draco glared, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Blaise. I don’t like her. Not in a million years.” He got closer to his face, his jaw clenching, his words seething, “You wanna know why I keep her around?”

Blaise saw the movement from the side of his vision as Draco did not, and tried to interrupt him. “Draco - ”

He made a sound that was close to a growl. “Because she gets my homework done.”

“Do I?”

Both heads snapped to the end of the bookshelf where the voice had come from. A girl stood by the books, her own clutched in her hands as if she’d tidied her desk and had gone looking for someone.

You stood there, and Draco panicked. He didn’t know why, but he foolishly prayed that you hadn’t heard anything. And in that split moment, his hand frozen and curled around Blaise’s collar in frustration, consequences raced through his head.

No more library sessions. No more sneaking out of your common rooms for last minute help. No more reading your expressions instead of the words on the textbook. No one else to get help from.

But somehow, the last had grown insignificant. He quickly scrambled away from his friend’s figure, and took a step towards you as he tried to push away the raging thoughts of losing you.

“No, I didn’t mea - ”

You shook your head, “No, you did. And I’m glad - if it wasn’t for you, I might’ve forgotten to hand my deadlines in.” You looked into his eyes, and Blaise saw that familiar look drift away into a fierce, almost terrifying one. “Thanks a lot, Draco.”

Amongst the tightening air, Blaise couldn’t help but feel that if he was the one on the other side of that stare, the one who the words were directed to, he would be running miles in the opposite direction.

His friend took a step forward, “Y/N.”

You held your hand up, stopping him without words, and threw a small book at his feet. “Save it. I was just coming to give you this - even if you’re an asshole, it’s no use to me.”

He felt like kicking the shelves down. He wanted to rip out every page of every book, if only you stopped looking at him like that. He didn’t recognise this look - he’d never seen it in anyone before, but now that you showed it to him, he hoped to never see it from anyone, especially you, again. You turned, and Draco’s outstretched hand that reached to you lowered as you walked away, the book not even acknowledged. Then you stopped, and his heart raced. You faced him, and hope flooded his chest.

“I won’t be studying in the library anymore, so don’t try and find me.”

And the hope drained, while his heart slowed. The air deflated as you really walked away this time, past the shelves and away from sight. The sound of the doors closing echoed through the entire library - or maybe it didn’t, maybe he was going crazy.

“Shit, mate.”

He ignored the guy beside him, and picked up the book. A piece of parchment stuck out from the top - a forgotten note?

Draco looked back up, hoping to see you again if only you had come back to claim something left behind - if not him, then at least this silly note.

When he realised you were long gone, when Blaise had even stalked off to god knows where, he slowly pulled the note out to see if it was worth returning to you.

And he realised it wasn’t even yours. It was his. It was written for him.

With a clench of his chest, he dully noted it must’ve been written before this had all happened.

The note read, ‘I’ve made you a timetable - this way, you’ll hopefully never forget an assignment again. You might not be as smart as a ravenclaw, but I suppose I’ve always had a thing for slytherins.”

[hellohellook]

DM. HABITS OF THE HEART

angst. from his pov

in which he’s in love with you, but you couldn’t be less oblivious

The room smelled like dust, with various assortments drifting in between. Draco slouched in his seat while his potions partner glared at him, stirring the cauldron with no help from the person beside him at all.

It wasn’t his fault - snape just had to find him the most boring person to sit beside. Draco couldn’t bring himself to help, not when he was this bored. Not when his friends stood on the other side of the room, and his eyes drifted to them almost longingly. In particular, they pulled towards you.

And just when he met your figure, concentration dancing across your expression, the scent changed entirely. The smell that followed him throughout his childhood, the same one that he first really took note of long years ago on a spring day when you’d sat particularly close to him. Sweet, subtle, but overwhelming to him. His heartbeat thudded in his ears.

He’d gone crazy, he really had. He was smelling your scent, and you were all the way across the room.

His partner cleared her throat. He could’ve groaned, because it only meant she was about to talk to him. In all honesty, perhaps the ravenclaw student beside him wasn’t so ugly - she wasn’t even such an unpleasant person, to be fair - but, she didn’t have that familiarity. That humour. That scent.

She cleared her throat harder, and he rolled his eyes as she turned to stare at her dully, chin still rested on his hand. “What?”

“The potion’s finished.” She nodded towards the pearly liquid, annoyance glazed across her eyes - although she wouldn’t say anything. Not to him. Not like you did whenever you got annoyed at him.

He reluctantly stood up, feeling like it was the hardest, most boring thing to do when you weren’t even there, and stared down at the contents. “What is it?”

He saw the way her fists clenched at her side, but she still didn’t voice her annoyance. She spoke through gritted teeth, frustration seeping through every word. “Amortentia, Draco. It’s amortentia.”

His gaze shot to your figure from across the room, the room that was cloaked in the scent lingering in the classroom, and in his memories. What did you smell? Did he dare to imagine you were, too, thinking of your childhood?

You sniffed at it, and he clenched his jaw. Your nose wrinkled and your brows crossed, and he felt himself lean forward to rest on his palms which were placed on the desk. Was it recognition or unfamiliarity that plagued your confusion?

He hoped, he so hoped, that it wasn’t the latter.

-

The Yule ball was tainted, and it made him sick. In all the days leading up to it, and the night itself, everything was tainted with it.

Love.

Confessions.

It made him restless, irritated, frustrated, and he didn’t know why. Draco didn’t know it was because he didn’t dare to do it himself, or that watching everyone else ask their partners to the ball left a bitter taste in his mouth because he longed to do it too.

And so, he could only blame himself as he sat on a table with Theo, Blaise, and a few other of the slytherins, watching you giggle as a stupid gryffindor whispered something against your hair. You never giggled like that with him - except for when you were innocent children and a whisper with a giggle meant nothing more than childish mischief. Beside him, Pansy was shuffling in her seat, so nervous and on edge that he considered pouring his drink on her.

“Draco, won’t you come dance with me?”

She’d been like this all night, and for some reason Draco couldn’t help worrying that you would misunderstand. He hasn’t asked her to be his date, he’d come alone tonight. Although, it didn’t stop her from clinging to his side the entire time, and he couldn’t help the ire that stirred every time his friends smirked in amusement at him.

Still, he was so bored. This ball was boring. Watching you was the only thing not so boring.

He looked. You were rising. You were accepting a hand. His hand. Not Draco’s hand, although perhaps he never would’ve mustered up the courage to offer it anyway.

And boredom turned to something greener. The idiotic, stupid, probably-not-even-pureblood imbecile led you to the dance floor. He’d had the chance as kids to be in his position - had even taken that chance when immaturity fuelled his courage. The two of you had danced in the rain in the gardens of the manor, and it was the kiddish laughter that echoed in his memory as your gown twinkled under the lights, swirling as he span you around like Draco had done. He almost smiled - he remembered how his mother had scolded him so bad for letting you out in the freezing rain, but the colds that you both developed after had been worth that dance.

Then he saw the giddy smile on your present day face, and hated the fact that it wasn’t to him. Stupid gryffindors, he never did like them.

He only dug his cheek further into his palm as he grumbled to Pansy, “Not in the mood.”

-

The slytherins clustered on the field, just beneath a large tree that blossomed with spring. It’s floral scent sweetened the air, and only the occasional gentle breeze helped to cool the heat of the sun.

He looked at you, as he always found himself doing since you were children, and thought you looked prettier than the flowers.

And then he looked at the arm around your shoulder, and clenched his jaw as he looked away.

He had no right to be jealous. He’d had your whole lives to do something about it, had years to take a chance and just confess. But his pride over won his infatuation - yes, that’s all it was. Infatuation. Nothing more.

And even if it was something more, how could he do anything about it now? He wouldn’t be surprised if you laughed in his face. It was his fault, really. He had let you take him all your lives as a friend, had never insinuated anything more except the stolen glances that you couldn’t see, or in the crazed thoughts that kept him up at night.

Draco couldn’t help himself, though.

He stood from where he sat, and forced himself in between you and the guy who was lazily draping an arm across his girl. The gryffindor gave an annoyed look yet had no choice but to shuffle away, grumbling something under his breath as he did. Draco didn’t watch him go, but couldn’t help the lazy grin that stretched wider. You looked to him strangely, and he wished it wasn’t such a confused look in your pretty eyes that watched him.

He smirked, an expression that felt too heavy on his lips, “Problem?”

Please say no.

You mockingly rolled your eyes, a gesture you’d learnt just after you both started hogwarts. They were the same eyes that had followed him throughout his childhood, only now they were more mature than before.

“I’m not interrupting that gryff being disgusting, am I?”

Please laugh. Please say you were waiting for me to come.

You clicked your tongue, and he watched your lips as they moved, hope swelling up his throat.

“I just knew you’d come, Draco.”

His heart thudded. The world felt less heavy. Somewhere across the group, he would’ve seen Pansy’s eyes on him if he only looked. Instead, all he could see, all he could feel, was the girl beside him.

What did you mean? Did he dare to let himself…imagine? To imagine a world where you pushed that stupid gryffindor aside - and all other boys, for that matter - and pulled him closer?

You sighed. “You’re always interrupting my chances with love.”

And Draco felt his heart, the same one that had carried him since you were children, shake; just like it had for the past few years whenever you confirmed there was no other line waiting for you both to cross.

And he did what he always did when you were around - he breathed out a laugh, and heaved a smile on his face.

You would never know the weight, nor the truth, behind his next words.

“I’ll always be around to do that.”

[hellohellook]

DM. SWEET DREAMS

fluff

The door swung open and collided against the wall with a thud, and I couldn’t help the smirk that stretched on my lips as Draco jumped from his desk. His head turned to shoot a glare in my direction, and I smiled at his expression as I sauntered over to his bed. I plopped myself onto the edge and lay down, spreading my arms and sighing in satisfaction.

“Blaise and Pansy are getting it on and I’m being kicked out of my own dorms, so I guess I’m crashing here for tonight, roomie.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the soft bedding smooth and silky against my fingertips. I distinctly heard a chair being pushed against the tiled floor, and then footsteps approaching my direction. “What makes you think I’ll let you?”

I opened one eye to see my friend’s head peaking over the top of my vision, his face contorted in a mockery of annoyance.

I grinned up at him. “Because I’m your only other friend, and you have no one else to keep you company for tonight.”

His eyes rolled before he stalked off to his wardrobe, and I watched as he picked out some comfortable clothes for sleeping. His mattress was firmer than mine, I realised. At some point the clouds had decided to rain down upon us, and the sound of pelting rain against the window panes sounded out within his room.

I patiently waited, my legs swinging off the edge of his bed as I watched the mindless patterns on the ceiling with arms spread wide, taking up as much space as possible with the sound of rain accompanying me in the background. I found myself on the edge of sleep, teetering between staring at nothing and succumbing to dreamland. I was just drifting into a state of unconsciousness before the bathroom door swung open and shower steam enveloped the room. The smell of men’s bodywash and expensive products wafted in alongside it, and I peeked an eye open to see Draco in loungewear, his forearms on display and his hair wet.

I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes again, wondering if I should just crash here every night.

And then I felt a hand prod my back. “Get up.”

I groaned and rolled over, head meeting his pillow. I subtly noticed it smelled like his shampoo and cologne.

“Y/N. Get up.”

I waved my hand in dismissal behind me, but felt him grab it and pull me up. I made a sound of protest as he used his strength to force me to move, “Either sleep on the sofa, or make room.”

“You sleep on the sofa,” I retorted, glaring at him. I was not sleeping anywhere but a mattress. I wasn’t some…some…well, whoever slept on sofas, it wouldn’t be me. And I most certainly was not touching the mysterious pile of mess that was Blaise’s bed.

He scoffed, and I felt him stare down at me despite my eyes still being closed. “You need all this room?”

“Yes.”

He released the hold on my wrist and almost threw himself on the space beside me, forcing me away with his elbow. “Then I guess you’ll have to learn to make do.”

I shuffled to get comfortable now that the lump was lying besides me, and grumbled something that he wouldn’t want to hear. My eyes narrowed, “You’re selfish.”

Draco stuck a middle finger up as his eyes closed, a stupid smile against his face as if he’d won whatever this was.

“And immature.”

He put his hand down and blissfully sighed against the blankets as he ignored me. I gaped at the attitude.

“And stupid.”

No reaction.

“And ugl - ”

His arm reached above his head to grab one of the spare pillows, and turned to smack it across my face. He held it down just enough to muffle my words of protest as he taunted, “Shut up, or go find somewhere else to sleep.”

I pushed it off my face when I felt his pressure release and his figure turn over, huffing in annoyance and glaring at his back.

I kicked the pillow immaturely off the bed, and quietly mumbled, “You find somewhere else to sleep.”

He didn’t respond after that, and after peace settled over the bed I noticed that the room had turned darker under the setting sun. The muscles around my hands relaxed to unclench the blanket I didn’t even realise I was grabbing with annoyance at Draco, and tiredness slowly started to pull my eyes downwards. Just when my own deep breathing was starting to become a swaying metronome drifting me off to a blissful sleep, movement from behind jolted me from that peaceful midpoint. My eyes snapped open, and I pursed my lips but kept quiet. I didn’t feel like instigating another argument. Even if he was some stupid, idiotic, couldn’t-stay-still-to-save-his-life buffoon that —

He moved once more, shuffling against the blankets as if he wanted to purposely annoy me.

I heavily sighed out my nose, letting him know that, if he didn’t want another bickering session, he needs to stop dancing against his bloody sheets.

It seemed to work, and I felt that myself succumb to tire once more. Slowly, slowly, slowly…

And the mattress practically bounced and nearly launched me into the next room as he twisted his body to shuffle around again.

I slammed my hand down on the bed beside me, “Draco, what the bloody hell are you playing at?”

I heard his agitated voice respond, “What?”

“Can’t you stay still for five minutes? At least save your dancing around for after I fall asleep - what are you even doing, practising for the ballet?”

He exhaled sharply, “I can’t sleep, if you must know.”

“Well, I can. Go sleep on the sofa if I bother you so much.” I assumed that he didn’t appreciate people taking up his bed, or that he just wasn’t used to another in his. Hopefully the latter, anyway.

“It’s not you.”

I crossed my brows, and turned to face him. “What do you mean?”

His hands raised, scuffing up his blonde blond hair in frustration with a groan before rubbing them down his face.

I blinked, confused as ever at my weird companion. Perhaps it was my fault for making bad choices, like befriending Draco, or opening the door for Blaise in the first place.

He muffled his words against his palm, and I couldn’t distinguish them at all. “What?”

He repeated whatever it was, yet it remained as foggy as ever. I raised myself onto my hands, looking down at the idiot who was somehow the dream guy of the majority of girls - and boys - at Hogwarts. I pried his hands away from his face to reveal his eyes that were red from the rubbing. “Draco, what is your problem? Why can’t you sleep?”

He scowled up at me. “I’m…I’m just - for fucks sake, I need that,” he spluttered out, pointing sharply at some object across the room. I followed his index finger to the direction it aimed at to see a black bear sat on the window ledge. I noticed a small green bow wrapped around its neck, and any prior annoyance instantly wiped itself away. My face split into a grin, and I couldn’t help the laugh that I let out - it wasn’t mocking, I just couldn’t believe how…how cute Draco Malfoy was.

He groaned at my amusement and rolled over, his back turned to me as if I didn’t catch the red tinting his cheeks.

I flopped myself back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as I bit my bottom lip to repress the smile.

I turned my head to look at his back. “Draco,” I whispered, as if this was top secret stuff.

He grumbled back, “What?”

“Do you need something to cuddle with?” I tried to keep the humour out of my voice, and it worked enough to pry an answer out of him.

Rather, he slowly turned his head over his shoulder and stared at me in doubt. “What?”

I clicked my tongue. “You need something to cuddle, right? That’s why you can’t sleep?”

Draco turned to fully face me, and I let the cheeky grin spread once more. “You’re in luck, I just happen to be the most cuddly person ever. And I’m feeling particularly generous today, so you can cuddle me. If you really want.”

His brows furrowed, and I pushed my bottom lip out as he stared at me with contemplating, narrowed eyes for too long.

“Fine, nevermind. Stay up all night, for all I care. The offer’s off the table, Draco!”

I exhaled heavily again and turned my back to him, still feeling his staring eyes behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored his warm presence.

It was just when I had found a steady breathing pattern that I felt an arm snake around my waist and pull me closer to that warmth radiating from him. As if he could sense the poorly suppressed, winning smile on my face, he mumbled, “Shut up.”

His face nestled into my hair, and his words were muffled and breathed against my neck as he said, “If you tell anyone…”

I patted the hand that was around my waist, sleepily replying, “Sleep, please.”

He finally kept quiet, and minutes went by without a movement to disturb me. A few more seconds of lovely silence passed before I whispered, “I won’t tell a soul that Draco Malfoy loves cuddling me to sleep.”

Despite himself, I felt the soft breath of a chuckle tickle against my skin. I lulled myself to sleep with his soothing breathing, radiating warmth, and a subtle pink staining across my cheeks.

[hellohellook]

DM. THE SPACE BETWEEN US

enemies to lovers

in which soulmates are forbidden to touch, but people who hate each other don’t need to touch anyway…

love is the mutual between us - it still holds the root of the world and our little insignificant lives. it drives the narrative of our being.

but my world is difficult than yours - love is something that’s even more beautiful, even more official, done by blessing everyone with a soulmate.

however, it’s not as lovely as you’d think.

the first documents of it were found on cave walls, depicted drawings that tried to figure it all out in pretty stories of partners and soul connections. the drawings tried to figure out why soulmates actually existed.

and, more importantly, why soulmates couldn’t touch eachother.

-

autumn was giving its final shout of reluctance to cave into winter, and the last bit of sunshine was trickling through the trees as a farewell before a blanket of cloud would cover the sky. i sat on the field, feeling cold nip at my skin even under my robes but ignoring it. around me, a group of fellow hogwarts students circled, talking in the midst of pointless conversation.

i smiled as luna lovegood read a gryffindor’s palm, lulling in a faint wonder at how easy it was just to touch. her pale finger draped around the lines of the ginger girl’s palm, while luna’s other hand was letting it rest there firmly.

not soulmates, i thought.

it was the first thing that came to mind whenever i saw people make contact, because in the event of that connection bound by the universe you just wouldn’t be able to do that. it’s a cruel, but almost natural thing.

skin - or even cloth covered hands - would never be able to touch that other person’s body. like similar poles of a magnet, they repel to eachother. i heard that it felt like an invisible shield of something almost silky, soft and incredibly infuriating, decorated around the one person you’d want to touch the most. the wise had said it was made to be this way because the ‘higher ones’ had seen the greed in humans, and ‘punished’ us for it, to teach us discipline and the practise of not wanting more than we could have.

yeah, i thought it was a load, too. but what did it matter, because currently it’s not like i had an interest in anyone? plus, crushes still existed, love still blossomed even if you weren’t soulmates, so i’ll just date someone who i can touch. simple.

a shout interrupted my blissful moment of peace. my absentminded smile drifted with the wind when my attention was caught by a deep call of my name behind me. my head turned slowly over my shoulder, already dreading the interaction that’d become part of everyday life. i met the figure of draco malfoy stood few feet away, his group of dumb slytherins behind him - see, in my friend group, we had a mixture of houses. why stick with just one house? the thought is ridiculous in itself.

his grin widened, and all i could think was how the greying sky of approaching winter blended perfectly with his pale hair and pasty skin. in a movement of boredom, my eyebrow raised for a curt response. instead of throwing some immature insult, he merely tilted his head and plastered a smile as genuine as he could make it.

“hair looks good.” he nodded in gesture to it, eyes flittering upwards for a moment.

i furrowed my brows and glanced at whoever happened to be sat next to me - the equally as confused cho chang - and then back to him. i put more weight onto my hand on the grass and leant into my shoulder, cocking my head and calling back, “thanks, malfoy?”

he shrugged and turned back to his friends, and i didn’t miss the smirk they all exchanged. an egotistical, intrusive thought said they’re teasing him - what, is he flirting with me now? and then...a more logical part realised that i might be at the bunt of some silly joke. i turned back to my circle of friends and subtly raised a hand to fix any stray hairs.

damn you, malfoy.

-

if you were in the same house as me and managed to sleep through the cold in the girl’s dormitory last night, you would’ve woken up by a scream coming from my bathroom in the early hours.

from me.

because my hair was green.

it didn’t take more than a single second to realise who the perpetrator was, and that the obnoxious colour was clearly a jab to represent ‘house pride’ - but for his house, in a way to satisfy his sadistic need to prank me.

i screamed into the mirror right after my shampoo had failed me and i realised what had happened. one of his cursed friends must’ve snuck in, or he bribed a girl in my dorms to taint the bottle’s contents. the brick walls refused to keep the shrill sounds of horror in, but the glass panels stood their resilient stand without shattering.

my roommate knocked, asked if i was ‘decent’ but peeped her head around anyway. her moves were fast, her eyes urgent and worried. her lips moved in questioning as i met her face through the mirror, and yet i didn’t hear what she said.

only one voice played in my head - ‘hair looks good.’

oh, that slytherin had got absolute hell to come.

-

quidditch was boring to watch, and sometimes i felt like the audience in the stands who screamed and bellowed and even cried were lying to themselves - i mean, did they all really care about this game that much?

the only reason i’d come to this particular game of the season was because it was between the gryffindors and the slytherins, and a little birdy had told me that gryffindor had been training extra hard. wood had been practically bouncing around the corridors, floating on some sort of happy cloud, whereas all his players seemed to drag their weary limbs around the school; so yeah, i’d say they were currently very clearly training rough. because of this, i just couldn’t wait to rub the loss into malfoy’s face - the actual game didn’t matter to me much, anyway.

i hid in the back corner of the crowd, a woolly hat tugged over my hair that was hidden from public eye. on top of that, i had my coat’s puffy hood up, so no one was seeing any of that hideous green.

infront of me, i noticed a couple sitting together - two hufflepuffs - with interlinked hands, the girl’s head rested on top of the boy’s shoulder. at least, that’s what it looked like at first glance. if you studied the scene for more than a brief glimpse (which, given the present boring contents of the game, i had plenty of time to do), you’d see that insufferable gap between their fingers, about half an inch wide. her head was rested on thin air.

soulmates, i thought.

just enough space to feel the warmth that was there, but never really enough.

as i watched the actual game, i came to a realisation. admittedly, draco was somewhat good at quidditch. his broom was to thank for the speed and agility of his movements, but the tactics, the fast reflexes, the rapid thought process that i could see behind his eyes during the game - all of this was evidence of an...alright player.

it wasn’t until he dived for the snitch that i perked up from a slouch, trying not to seem too eager incase it got back to him, but still intrigued. draco was headed straight for the ground at accelerating speeds, the forces of gravity with the winds pushing down and his own personal will driving him downwards. i might’ve gasped in disbelief when he let go of the handle with one hand to reach outwards, but i quickly covered that with a palm to my mouth.

as i watched it unfold as if time had slowed to the speed that a rock melts; draco reached further and further, coming closer to the hard surface with every moment that passed. was the gold ball seriously that important? god, just save yourself already!

the crowd started silencing themselves, small gasps coming from various people around the seats, and i was tempted to almost join the synchronous sounds myself. i had to stand up eventually because that couple - along with everyone else - had stood up suddenly and blocked my view, everyone watching with bated breath at draco’s dramatic stunt.

if i wasn’t distracted by the said stunt, i could’ve rolled my eyes.

at just the final few inches from the ground, his fingers grabbed at seemingly nothing and his face broke concentration, disappearing as he yanked the handle upwards and twisted back towards the sky.

“malfoy catches the snitch, slithering wins!”

i let out a breath that i didn’t even realise was held in the first place, and was the first to fall back into my seat out of everyone.

then i rolled my eyes.

after the game officially ended, draco took his broom and flew past the audience, high fiving students like he was a goddamn celebrity. once he got close enough to be in earshot, i called out to him, “that stunt would’ve been dangerous for a good player, malfoy!”

his eyes shot to mine instantly, and his outstretched hand came to stable on his handle as he flew to the back of the stands, right beside me. he landed gracefully and sneered, and yet it wasn’t hostile in the slightest. more sarcastic and humorous, because draco was still in the buzz of the win. he simply grinned and said, “good thing i’m excellent then, isn’t it?”

just as i thought he was about to fly off, he made a move to hit my hood and topple it backwards. his hand barely grazed over the top, missing its target and sparing me the humiliation of flashing the dye to everyone that now watched. my eyes widened in panic - and yet so did his.

i would’ve insulted him, maybe even told him off and lectured about the harshness of his prank, but draco didn’t give me a chance for that. the boy looked at me strangely, almost like he was scared of me, and then flew off back to his team. high fives forgotten about and, maybe i’d imagined it, but it seemed his grip on the handle was tighter than ever before.

-

i tucked the letter in between the beak of a silvery owl, watching with a smile as its feathers fluttered and he cooed in response to my finger tickling its round head. it took flight and flew out of the owlery, into a particularly cold morning.

the howler would arrive at breakfast, in mere minutes, infront of everyone and straight to its target at the dining table.

i smiled at that, my eyes admiring the scene out of the high tower’s window. as i tilted out of the frame to breathe in the crisp air, my hair blew backwards, guided by a sudden wind coming my way. it served as a reminder for the ugly dye that stained what once was my beautiful hair, and i instantly scowled. i shut the two halves of the window in the centre and clicked it securely in place, glowering at the reflection of a green haired monster staring back at me.

“fucking bastard...”

“god. well that’s not very friendly,”

my eyes searched the glass panel with an inner cringe, praying that no head of white hair would be reflected and that i was just mishearing that snivelling, infamous voice.

but no, because the universe would rather self implode than give me a single good thing. i whipped around and narrowed my eyes, “you.”

his hands were in his pockets, and somehow he’d climbed up this high, freezing tower without any robes on over his uniform. idiot. draco shrugged, “green’s your colour,”

my legs paced over before i even registered the brisk movements myself, and i watched as his smirking face turned into wide eyed and almost panicked. there was something familiar in the way he watched my raising hand as i approached - perhaps something that reminded me of third year, when that hippogriff had grazed his arm entirely provoked - and if it wasn’t happening so quickly, i perhaps would’ve laughed.

my arm flew up, itching to feel the side of his face against my palm, and then there was the block.

draco’s own hand came to snap around my wrist instantly, stopping the slap before i could get that satisfaction.

the warmth of his fingers curled around my skin. not soulmates, i instinctively thought.

then i felt like slapping myself instead because, while the universe might’ve hated me enough for all these little inconveniences, it wasn’t the devil’s hand that had crafted it, and they wouldn’t do something like that to me. having that comfort, i shook the intrusive thought away by literally giving my head a brief shake, and met his eyes again.

they seemed busy with a foggy cloud of thought, but once i met them he blinked and we grounded, glaring at eachother with him still holding my wrist.

“rude, Y/N.”

my lips parted to retort, and then my nose wrinkled. draco never called me by my first name, it was always ‘Y/L/N’, or another stupid nickname.

i let a humoured laugh leave me before yanking my wrist away, ignoring the blasted thoughts about soulmates that came with the action, and said, “and why would i care if yo-”

and that’s when we heard it.

faint, carried to the top of the tower only by some crazy echo, and picked up only because it was deathly silent here once the wind excused itself for a moment. a whistle, and then a sort of explosion. like fireworks, but only more angry, and less celebratory. like a tight coil finally released, all the pent up stress dissolved into sound energy.

the howler.

it’d gone off.

so...how come draco was stood right here?

i looked at him strangely, even as he studied the exit to the tower in curiosity about the noise. he hadn’t figured out what it was yet.

i exhaled heavily and sharply, annoyed that some idiot must’ve opened the letter before draco could’ve.

actually, no, the idiot was draco himself.

it was draco, because what in god’s name was he doing up here? why wasn’t he down there, ready to be the butt of public humiliation?

the questions sent me racing down the tower’s stairs, circling around the flights as i got closer and closer to the main part of school.

breakfast was being served, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. from outside the great hall, i could hear laughter and the buzz of chatter inside, muffled by the great oak doors.

my fingers reached to open them, but someone else burst through before i had the chance. my lips parted and my brows deepened in confusion as draco stormed through with crabbe and goyle following like sheep, red steam seeming to evaporate off of him. oh god, he was angry.

i’ve never, ever seen that before. ever.

note the sarcasm.

on instinct, i jumped backwards and only watched with widened eyes as draco’s head snapped towards mine. his eyes were lethal, absolutely venomous with rage, and in that moment i forgot the confusion of having seen two dracos (like one wasn’t enough). the blonde boy narrowed his eyes and i saw his teeth clench by the ticking of his jaw muscle, and a heavy intake of air filled his lungs as he promised murder with his eyes alone.

to respond to his intimidating appearance, i bit my lower lip to poorly suppress a grin. my legs carried me backwards in a slow pace, sounds of littering steps that tapped against the smooth floor and echoes of him and his friends following slowly. a moment passed, and then his thickly deep voice growled, “you think this is funny, Y/L/N? i’m gonna curse you into oblivion, you filthy little shit.”

a giddy giggle flourished into the air from me, and i then turned and ran. i ran down the corridor, hearing my shoes create a rhythmic, bouncing sound against the walls as draco followed suit. his rather large friends weren’t as fit, and i could hear their sloppy moves fall behind. when i angled my head over my shoulder as i rounded the first corner, i noticed that the latter were noticeably a while behind us - but draco himself was gaining momentum, and fast.

i was running solely on adrenaline and immature excitement, with a dash of pure joy from seeing how livid i’d made draco with the public humiliation - if anything was to take down draco malfoy, it would be his pride. my eyes widened again at seeing how close he was, and my feet snapped into a faster pace once i noticed. it was then that the senses came into clearance; the feeling of my hair rushing behind my head, the smell of breakfast fading with every step, the sight of the corridor becoming wider and wider as i ran down it, and how the next corner approached with the rapid choice that touched my taste buds in a sense of panic - turn, or keep going?

i scanned my memory for where each direction led to, but another call of my name from a furious draco had me scrambling the mental map up. you’d think i’d never been in hogwarts before because, as soon as that corner was rounded by me, i was met with two things - a small closet on one side of the wall, and a large seal of brick on the other.

a dead end.

“nowhere to run now,” he leered from behind. i whipped around, now feeling much more panic than excitement. i looked at the devilish satisfaction in his eyes, saw how excited he was to be roleplaying this story of prey and predator, and wondered god, would i even be recognisable after this? could he even throw a punch? hmm, looking at him now, he could probably pitch me off the astronomy tower, let alone a measly punch.

i blew out a breath, willed myself to calm down and retorted with the one thing i knew best. sarcasm. “at least take me to dinner first, draco.”

his eyebrows raised sarcastically, his head tilting as if considering it. his lips opened to reply with more sarcasm and create a facade of conversation back and forth, just like we’d done so many times before, but the sound of unevenly distributed footsteps down the corridor interrupted. it took one moment of silence to realise that it was filch, limping down the hallway and ready to catch students wondering around when we should all be gathered in the hall for meals.

of course, we could’ve come up with some excuse about needing to see a teacher, or even needing the bathroom and just happening to get lost, and then by pure chance we just bumped into each other, but none of that seemed to dawn on us in the moment. our eyes met and widened in panic, and it took one synchronous look at the door to my right to know that our ‘only’ option would be to hide.

we heard filch whisper to his retched cat, “come on, my sweet. what did you hear?” before our stressing figures scrambled through the door and we shut the door as quietly as we could, despite the tension that’d grew from mutual fear of being caught.

the confrontation and murderous intent was forgotten about. for now.

-

filch left after a while, and all that was left to do was exhale in relief, then swing open the closet door and step out into full brightness once more.

i didn’t notice the lack of contact we had made despite being in such small confinements, nor did i realise the impossibility of me touching him despite said close proximities - but draco did.

it’d pondered on his mind for days now, and it was after that quidditch match that the question posed itself in the back of his mind. had we ever touched before? maybe just a brief brush in the hallways, or a prank that had required physical contact?

he’d searched his mind for days, and that question only spiralled further until it planted itself right in the epicentre of his thoughts. it caused him immense stress, but surely he was just overthinking everything? i mean, god, what was he even suggesting? it was ludicrous. absolute madness. utterly ridiculous.

- 3rd person

draco had a problem: he couldn’t stop thinking. thinking about that time after quidditch when he’d first noticed it. about how they’ve never once quite touched. the realisation that the idea of soulmates was completely stupid, and must’ve been untrustworthy enough to...make a mistake.

then, his problem changed. it first happened when he was watching Y/N in the great hall, glaring at her subconsciously, just like usual. he then saw the way her head was suddenly thrown back in laughter, and her eyes had creased in a way that he’d never seen before - never directed towards him, anyway. he didn’t know it, but that was the first time he felt that tug of inevitable fate.

the next time was when she sauntered past in a lesson, her textbook clutched to her chest as she chatted away to the girl beside her. the girl was one from another house, something draco had never understood about Y/N - how could she even associate herself with outsiders? that day, draco had hardly noticed what he was doing. one moment, he was sat with chin on hand in boredom, and the next his eyes were following her figure that glided past. his face was blank, but that only made up for the frenzy that was his mind. denial made for a wondrous blessing, but it’s only a sheer layer of a skill; underneath, you’ve got the storm of reality. once draco caught the breeze of her scent as she walked by so briefly, that was the second time the universe whispered the truth in his ear.

draco didn’t go to the next quidditch practise.

he was far too nervous about what the last game had caused him to realise, and he felt almost disgusted with himself because...well, he didn’t hate it so much.

the wrong person, the wrong person.

this thoughts would only be returned with treacherous utterances: the universe never lies.

- 1st person

draco had been ditching multiple quidditch practises, according to rumours and flint’s very audible complaints and extremely noticeable souring mood.

hufflepuff had been a positive buzz because of this, and it was clear the house of yellows was expectant of a guaranteed win. however, a few weeks later, the quidditch game had gone exactly the opposite. draco flew out with his team - like i knew he would, despite some people believing he’d skip the match - and he’d played the game with a scowl on his face the entire time. he looked more miserable than flint does whenever someone misses a goal, not at all like draco usually looked during games. he was always playing with adrenaline scorched all over his expression, with a fiery passion in his eyes that you just didn’t see in day to day life - but wait, why did i notice that?

...moving on. the slytherins won, and of course they celebrated as they usually do; a party. a great, thumping, ridiculous party, hosted in the slytherin common rooms and open to all except the losers of the game (and a majority of the gryffindors, with close friends and ‘fit girls’ as an exception).

naturally, i was going. a majority of my girl friends were, too, and so we showed up as the hottest attenders that hogwarts had to offer, and started ‘celebrating’. it wasn’t until after a few hours of flaunting my dancing skills and ability to hold my alcohol (and act sophisticated enough while doing so) that some ravenclaw started parading around the rooms, announcing a game to start in front of the fireplace.

a handsome slytherin boy - theo nott, i’m sure - stood before a growing group of students, the fireplace glowing behind him and lighting up his features in an eery and weak silhouette. an orange tint dusted against his angled and chiselled features, and along with the playful, theatrical persona that he currently presented, i could so see myself falling for a guy like him.

his arms gestured up in a call, “welcome, welcome! come, and join the game - the game of the match! (the match that we won, might i add),” his eyes glinted cheekily, and a few of my friends giggled and rushed to take their places in the circle. i leant against the wall and appreciated his words, a presentation he put on that resembled an elite circus showman.

he grinned to a few more approaching students, and i noticed draco was already amongst the ones on the carpet. it was rather a shock that he was on the floor and not protesting against his ‘human rights’, but i got over it soon enough.

my attention was brought back to theo’s conclusion of his show and, just to test the universe, i sauntered over with a smile.

i interrupted his phrase “ladies and gentlemen -!” with a hand placed onto his bicep in a soft manner, then a quick, quiet breeze of his name in greeting.

and then the ‘s’ word flashed into my mind again.

not soulmates. thank god.

i let my hand linger there as his eyes caught mine and his expression turned suggestive and boyishly smug, but with hidden kindness underneath. “and the loveliest lady...” his words were murmured so that only i could hear, and perhaps we made a quiet promise to catch up with each other after the party in our eyes, before i smirked once more and took my place. i knew two things in that moment; that theo’s eyes turned to briefly follow my figure before he could bring himself to intrigue the last few to join our group, and that draco had watched the whole thing.

his eyes were glaring into mine and his jaw was clenched so that his sharp line had ticked in aggravation - but that was just his resting face when it came to me. in fact, this almost felt like deja vu. his one leg was propped up so that his forearm could lazily rest against his knee, and his blonde hair looked like it hadn’t been tamed since the quidditch game considering how foreignly messy it was, almost trickling into his deep eyes.

in another universe, i might’ve admitted that he was painfully attractive.

enough so that the charming theo had left my mind entirely, and for a moment all i could see were clear, intensely gazing eyes, but the former’s voice called out once more and our contact was broken.

“alright everyone, shots all around!”

my eyes darted to whatever bottle he was waving around, surprised that there was alcohol being introduced before the games had even started, and then i realised. this wasn’t stupid drunken games with even more intoxication as a consequence for losers, this was veritaserum.

the conversation buzzed louder in excitement and everyone held out a shot glass as the bottle passed around. theo sat himself beside draco and their friends, and my girls kept around me with anticipation for the potion.

the drink was colourless, a mock of pure water. it tasted like nothing, except perhaps the coming dread knowing that these few drops were enough to make secrets come spilling out of everyone soon enough - whether their own, or from their friends sat beside them.

the small bottle was empty once it had made its way around the huge circle, and so the last student - a hufflepuff - placed it into the centre and spun. the questions poured out, and every answer was juicier than the last. tampered exam results, bribed teachers, secret affairs involving long term couples, even hidden pregnancies.

i watched with an almost sober mind and a small smile as the glass bottle spun round and round, whizzing past my body but never landing directly at me. the fates were good to me tonight. the next go was on a red headed slytherin, and i saw a glint of malice shine in her eyes before she pointed at me and my previous thought of gratitude was obliterated.

okay, so damn the fates.

her long finger seemed to pierce into my skin, and i felt all the eyes of the circle turn to me expectedly and excitedly, eager for the next bit of gossip. i gulped, and let the moment move in slow motion as i waited for her inevitable question ‘truth, or dare’. theo caught my eye from opposite me, so i smiled sheepishly and winced in exaggerated dread. he chuckled in response.

for some reason, i then glanced across to his blonde friend. draco was in the same position, except with his head now tilted back against the lounge behind him and a rather prominent rouge staining his cheeks. his hair was still messy, but he wasn’t just handsome - he was beautiful. his half empty liquor bottle lay between his fingers, casually dancing between the slender supporters as his eyes lazily stared at me the entire time from his angled position.

god.

“so, little quiet one, what’s it gonna be?”

i fought the urge to snap at the nickname and shrugged, “truth.”

the girl’s eyes narrowed in a mischievous smirk, and then her lips formed the question i’m sure she’d been planning for a while now, “who’s the most desirable to you in this circle?”

i answered instantly.

“draco.”

the instinct to slap a palm across my lips bit my muscles like parasites, but i denied it and continued to act nonchalant - as if i didn’t care about the answer. the very truthful, very much unexpected (for me, as well as everyone else) answer. her eyebrows raised in acknowledgement before the group moved on and i spun the bottle again. after, i looked over at draco briefly just to check his reaction, hoping he hadn’t spotted the harsh swallow at how much i hated that answer, or the tint of humiliation on my cheeks that i could feel in thermal proof. his demeanour hadn’t changed, but his tongue had come to poke the inside of his cheek while still studying me with those godforsaken eyes, bottle still dancing between those pretty fingers.

if i wasn’t glued to my seat in the spirit of the game and from subtle embarrassment, i would’ve contemplated getting up and smacking an expression onto that blank faced prat.

i looked away and watched the spinning bottle. of course, it landed on theo. what a funny taunt. oh god, how i loved the universe’s humour. he seemed unfazed by what had just happened, and his eyebrows raised at me in readiness to give me an answer.

i ignored the budding seed of a sort of guilt (or was it shame?) in my throat, and asked, “theo. truth or dare?”

he smoothly replied, “truth.”

the veritaserum wasn’t done with me yet, and it took ahold of my vocal chords to propose the question i was most curious to know the answer to, but would probably never usually voice aloud. “who are you most attracted to out of everyone here?”

without a single moment of thought, he answered, “you.” his voice was too clear to seem persuaded, too sure to seem forced, that i wondered if he even needed that potion to admit it to me - and to everyone else here.

i nodded awkwardly, not sure how else to accept that, and quietly cleared my throat once theo took ahold of the bottle to spin. before he could send it off into a twister, draco’s voice sounded out. “i’ll go.”

“mate, you’ve gotta wait your t - ”

“i’ll go.” his eyes were still playing on me, intense enough to make anyone nervous without even trying to - because, for god’s sake, that was just draco. theo sat back down and shrugged, and draco didn’t even take ahold of the bottle. the boy swigged the last bit of his drink and swiftly span it across his fingers in a twirl, mimicking the movements of the forgotten bottle in the centre.

he slowly tilted the tip of it straight to me, one eye winking shut as if taking aim to having it land on me. “Y/L/N. truth or dare.”

“dare.” i didn’t mean that.

“come show me just how desirable i am,” his words were instant, but just as casual as his posture. he made no move to get up, but finished off his command of a dare with, “right now, in my dorms.”

a chorus of stupid cheers and ooo’s sounded out around us. i felt an elbow from one of my friends nudge me forwards as i tipped my head downwards in bashfulness, feeling heat rise onto my cheeks in a burn from all this attention. once i looked back up, draco had his head cocked at an angle in invitation and his bottle had been placed on the floor beside him.

i tucked some hair behind an ear and nodded, standing up and meeting his eye as he did the same. he didn’t make a move to come closer, so i paced across the carpet and joined his waiting figure. someone called out, “enjoy!” while someone else shouted, “be safe!” but we both took no notice to them, nor to the sound of the bottle spinning back across the carpet.

he didn’t offer a hand, nor did he throw an arm over my shoulder, but instead he tucked them firmly into his pockets and swaggered first towards what i assumed were the boy’s dormitories. my hands interlinked at my front, and the thought of running away came to mind. for some reason, i couldn’t bring myself to, but just to express my forever disliking for him, i kept my voice low and said, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

we reached an oak door, right at the end of the hall. it was taunting beyond belief because i could only think about what lay beyond it - and i didn’t mean the simple decor, but the actions that would take place there. draco’s large hand rested onto the door knob and he paused to look back at me, “trust me, Y/L/N, i couldn’t agree more.” the last thing i saw before he opened it was a small plaque plastered onto the front that read ‘prioritised dorm.’

that just meant: the prefects and their unnecessary private rooms.

his room was silent, and whether it was a spell or just the thickness of the door that shut out most of the noise of the party, i didn’t have the steadiness of mind yet to question it. he took out his wand and blew the tip of it, casting some charm that carried on the draft of oxygen towards unlit candles, and lit them. the room was illuminated dimly by an orange glow, and it cast upon the most basic of objects (a large bed, a stocked bookshelf, a study desk full of parchment and another door leading to an en suit) in a cosy manner.

i didn’t notice draco was stood before me until he moved closer to block my wondering eyes, and my hands unclasped themselves from my front. his hair fluttered down in delicate wisps over his forehead as a threat to cover his pretty eyes, the same ones that stared at me with a curious and promising look of...something that made my intake of air suddenly much harder.

my hands squeezed tightly, and i soon felt that they’d turned to fists at my side at the hitch of my breath. it was embarrassing, and i didn’t need draco to think he had some sort of pathetic ‘effect’ on me.

“you seem nervous?” he proposed in hidden cockiness.

“it’s the alcohol.”

he chuckled once and raised an eyebrow that showed he saw anything but the truth from me.

his voice dropped a few tones and the low, almost whisper of it travelled straight to my spine in a cold breeze of feeling that teetered on the brink of pleasure. “have you realised it yet?”

i fought against the desperate urge to look down at his lips that formed the words and shook my head, not really thinking into what he meant. “realised what? that you’re standing way too close?”

his teeth flashed in amusement.

“that we’re soulmates.”

they must’ve been lulled smaller into a trance, because my eyes suddenly snapped wider and my mind felt entirely sober. i stood straighter and furrowed my brows, “what?”

“come on, Y/L/N. think about it - have we ever actually touched? i noticed it ages ago - a few weeks back, after the quidditch match.”

i shook my head, “don’t be stupid. we...we’ve definitely touched.” i lit up in realisation and underlying relief, brighter than the candles that flickered in its own doubt. “we touched! we have, we have, you fool! you stopped me from slapping you - that day, in the owlery!”

his eyebrows furrowed and for the first time this evening, draco looked unsure of himself.

“just before you got that howler.” i reminded.

he searched his memory briefly, and then his eyes landed on mine in a look of realisation once he’d found it. the satisfaction and sureness of his expression was sinister and daunting.

his head cocked to the side and the few words he uttered next had my knees wanting to give out and my lungs wanting to shout in aggravation because it couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t.

“polyjuice potion. you think i’d be caught dead near you after turning your hair green? absolutely not. i had higgs wondering around as me for a day.”

terence higgs. i didn’t know those two were even friends, but you just couldn’t be sure with draco. i slumped backwards in disbelief, and the only thing in the world that i could be grateful for in that moment was that the wall was close behind me, otherwise i would’ve collapsed onto the carpeted, fancy fucking ground.

it was true. it made sense. it felt like everything in the world had been leading up to this moment, and all the pieces just suddenly clasped together in a perfect picture. only, it wasn’t perfect.

draco took a step closer and i straightened, my eyes tightening in warning. he grinned boyishly, “relax, i can’t touch you anyway.”

“and i hope you never try to.”

he pouted sarcastically, and came even closer despite my comment. a glint of a cunning plan shone in his eyes, and his voice dropped again. something like suppressed anger or frustration tangled delicately into his words as he said, “you’re not the only one hating this. do you even know how difficult it’s been these past few weeks, knowing this horrid thing is real?”

i marched through the shy, thoroughly charmed and hormonal demeanour that was begging to take charge and spat out, “i can imagine.”

his hand slammed onto the wall beside me, firm and as rage filled as his eyes now were. perhaps i imagined the whoop that came from somewhere else in the party at the loud sound, but i could hardly think on it as he muttered deeply, “no, you can’t. let me tell you - it’s been fucking difficult. enough to drive a man mad, Y/N.”

Y/N, and not Y/L/N.

my lips parted to say something, but his other hand then slammed onto the other side of the wall to silence me. my head was encaged between his strong arms, and so i kept quiet, because that was probably the best thing to do.

“it’s been driving me crazy.” his head moved closer, “soulmates; isn’t it ironic? i used to want to touch you if only to hurt you, perhaps even break you apart - and now...these past few weeks have driven me to want to do the same, but in very, very different ways.”

my nerves were swallowed in a harsh gulp and, was that a drop in the temperature that caused such a violent shiver?

his once blue eyes seemed so much darker now, and i could only hope whatever my expression portrayed was the reason that he was looking more and more frustrated by the second. a few hours ago, i would’ve pushed him away and gladly stormed out of the room, perhaps throw a few curses at him before i did so, and now...the fact that i couldn’t touch him anyway wasn’t at all the reason that i wouldn’t be pushing him away.

“you’ve been thinking about me, malfoy?”

his eyes narrowed, then his head dipped forwards and ghosted against my neck. “you wouldn’t fucking believe how much.” his breath was hot against my skin, and it drove me to the brink of insanity knowing that that was the closest contact i’d ever get to him. i sucked in my surprise at his proximity that perhaps would never get close enough. maybe i should go find someone i could actually touch after this - oh, what was that guy’s name? thomas? tobias? timothy?

it was like he could read my thoughts, because his next words mimicked a nip at my skin in a promise that i might never forget, “i might not be able to put my hands on you, but i can still do things to make you forget the name of every other guy out there.”

i then spoke for the first time in minutes, my voice just as whispered as his, but more airy. “you brought me here to see just how desirable you are to me. don’t you want to see, draco?”

he chuckled into the space between my neck and shoulder, and maybe in another world i would’ve felt the tickle of his hair against my skin as he nodded slowly in reply.

his head lifted, mere seconds from my face. i smiled and bit my bottom lip in invitation, and so he slowly brought his face closer, closer, closer. we pushed the bounds of the universe as much as possible, until we both felt that shield and he could come no closer. his lips were hovering over mine, our mouths both parted so that our breaths collided and intermingled like we couldn’t do ourselves.

“i hate you.” i breathed onto his lips. “i hate you so much, it’s enough to drive a woman mad.”

his breath hitched at the repetition of his own words, but he hadn’t realised how serious i was yet. our heads moved in slow syncopation, mimicking the dance of a kiss but with the telltale distance of soulmates.

my lip curled into the shape of a sneer as i finally said, “i don’t love you, draco.” he paused, his intake of air halted. “how could i love someone that i hate? why would i love someone i can’t even touch?”

draco’s head pulled away, and i felt the warmth of him leave as well. the satisfaction of us no longer teasing the edge of the invisible shield came, and i felt a cool, free space surround me once more. this was all too unnatural, so why let it play on for any longer? (actually, the entire problem came from it being too natural, because this was just what happened in this universe.)

my hands remained by my side, pressed against the wall, but my facial expression was serious, almost bored.

“why would you love someone that you hate?”

“shut up.”

i smiled again. draco was looking at the ground, now stood upright with his hands clenched at his side, but no footsteps backward.

his head then suddenly lifted, and his eyes snapped to mine one last time. this rejection wouldn’t be much of a loss for draco because he had many other girls in queue for him, and he certainly didn’t ‘love’ me or whatever.

so, why his face was laced with hatred and his voice tainted in anger, i wouldn’t know. he spat out the final words of the night before the door was swung open and, beyond it, revealed the party still going on outside, the entire world unchanged and unfairly undisturbed.

“my promise still stands. and, Y/N, when you feel that wrenching soul demand to come back to me - because, trust me, it’ll fucking happen - be ready to beg for any ‘love’ from me.”

[hellohellook]

DM. THE PULL

angst (but ends well). part two

see here for part one

in which he realises she’s more than just a rebound

thankfully, blaise had the courtesy to leave the encounter, which must’ve felt awkward to him but even more so for the couple involved.

draco slowly rose from his seat, hardly daring to breath in such a suffocatingly tense atmosphere. Y/N held her gaze, unbelieving of what she’d heard, wishing her ears had deceived her.

no, she thought, draco doesn’t get to look so nervous. he brought this onto himself.

“i’d just come to bring you some soup i made. homemade.” without taking her eyes off of him, she reached into her bag and pulled the flask out. she placed it onto the table firmly, the bang against the glass ebbing away a little of the anger in satisfaction.

“when you said you were ‘unwinding’, i assumed that meant you wouldn’t want any company.”

draco glanced at the flask, then took a step towards her.

“don’t.”

“Y/N…it’s not what you think.”

she laughed. really, really laughed. the sound was sarcastic and shrill, and in such a way that might torment draco in shame for the next few months to come. “so what is it then, draco?”

he frantically tried to claw his way out of the hole, instantly replying with a mess of an explanation, “you don’t understand - it’s not like that anymore. i…i thought it was, but it’s something more - you’re something more.”

“you’re making absolutely no sense right now.” her arms crossed and her legs started itching to walk away. she mentally counted down, giving him his last chance to save himself in whatever words he could string together. a chance that she hoped he’d grasp, because she wanted him to be right. she wanted to have misheard.

it hurt too much to be true.

he sighed and rubbed his forehead harshly, scrubbing down his face with a hand and somehow looking even more stressed afterwards. then, some sort of realisation came about him. draco’s voice was quiet as he whispered, almost to only himself, “it’s taken me so long to realise.”

her patience was wearing thin, and she wanted to get out of there, away from the property entirely, before the anger spiralled away and the pain took its place.

draco’s head snapped up and he looked to his girlfriend. “i’m stupid. so fucking stupid.” his hands clenched at his side, then unfurled like he was trying to suppress his self directed anger. “you’re not a rebound, i - ”

Y/N’s hands twitched into motion, and her hands portrayed quotation marks as she reiterated his previous words, “‘yeah, she’s the perfect replacement, i’m telling you.’ now, tell me if i’m wrong, draco, but that sounds a little misleading now that i’ve heard you say it yourself.”

“you’re not listening to me! i was wrong, i hadn’t even known it myself - ”

“you keep saying that! what didn’t you know, draco? that you’re an idiot? that i’m more than an object just to be replaced for this ‘astoria’ girl?”

“ - that i love you!”

the air stilled, and the very fabric of the universe shushed to listen. Y/N reeled herself back in, standing up straight and trying to comprehend what draco was saying with barely furrowed brows. draco himself seemed surprised, like saying the words aloud had just taken him away from dream and grounded him in reality.

Y/N didn’t have many thoughts in that moment, and if she tried to recount this in the future she could probably do so in a matter of seconds, but her lips felt slow and her words felt heavy, tasted bitter on her tongue as she said quieter than before, “i’m glad you love me.”

draco’s eyes expressed the clearest emotion of worry and confusion, so she did him the honour of elaborating, “that means the rebound worked out for you.”

she turned, and draco screamed in his mind to try and stop her. the exclamations travelled from his thoughts, to his vocal chords and throat and floated onto his tongue, but all that drifted out was a strangled, silent sound only he could hear. or, maybe she had heard it too, and for a split second it seemed the sun had shone down in a mix of blessings as Y/N smiled and spoke again.

and then it dimmed, and the world turned dark, hazy, irrelevant, as she said, “i loved you too.”

this time was different, because it wasn’t a job opportunity that pushed her through the doors and away from him. it wasn’t the chance to move elsewhere. there wasn’t the luxury of being able to hate her, because she’d been nothing but faithful in her entire few (all too short) months with him. this was draco’s doing, courtesy of his own stupid, foolish, misguided beliefs.

just like that, quicker than anything he could grasp and try to save from slipping through his fingertips, she left.

draco had been wrong all along. to end like that, was much worse than ending on good terms.

-

two weeks. two. weeks.

that was fourteen days that draco hadn’t heard from Y/N, and it was taking a toll on him.

in astoria’s case, he drowned out the loneliness with things - hobbies, other stuff that felt meaningless now - but everything he picked up, everywhere he went, draco found that it reminded him of her.

the library in his manor had been explored countless times by Y/N. every couch had been a place that she’d once sat, every window one that she’d once looked out of.

what was the difference? astoria had done these things and more, had spent longer with him than Y/N ever had chance to, so why?

astoria had been alike to draco in so many ways, and maybe that’s why he’d liked her so much initially. her relevance was to his former self, a connection to immature draco that he couldn’t see himself letting go in his try of redemption. Y/N, on the other hand, was on an entirely different level. to compare them wouldn’t have made sense, and yet draco did so anyway.

she was a breath of fresh air. nothing like he used to be, and maybe that was good for him. how could he have ever thought she’d be a rebound for astoria, a replacement, if they were completely different?

then, draco did something stupid.

august 3rd, last year: ‘a date, a recap, a fantasy.’

her hand in his, his heart content. the shopping centre was always her favourite place to spend her free time in, and the way she saw it - if she had the money, why not spend it?

draco was just happy to be with her, and so he looked to the left of him and smiled down at her pretty face. he admired the way her eyes searched through the glass, gazing into certain stores.

astoria.

“looking for anything in particular?”

she hummed, peering through a jewellery store then losing interest soon after. “just looking.”

astoria then caught his staring eye and smiled, breathing out a laugh, “what are you looking at me for, draco?”

he grinned and looked down, then casually around to give her the alleviation of his focus. “just looking.”

he could feel the eye roll from her.

she gasped, catching his attention once more. draco looked at her instantly, to see her eyes glued to a door to some shop. he traced where she was looking and found the large oak door, slashed over with a thick piece of tape that read ‘CLOSING DOWN.’

if her hand wasn’t enclosed in draco’s and her other wasn’t holding shopping bags, she would’ve brought it up to her mouth, because draco just knew her mannerisms.

“oh, draco. i can’t believe it’s closing.”

he hummed in agreement. “i used to love this place. actually, it used to be my favourite book store.”

she nodded, “me too!”

present day: ‘replacement.’

draco stopped his memory there.

astoria loved shopping, it was true. she had, many times, invited him to come with her on her little expeditions through designer stores, never once spending his money despite how much he insisted it, but only to have him nearby.

draco also knew all of her mannerisms like the back of his hand, that was also true. he could predict her movements before she’d even thought to do them, and he could usually mimic what she’d say before her tongue had even formed the words.

but…astoria didn’t read like he did.

she never visited book stores, or spent her shopping sprees buying books, or even ever took note of the cosy shop that happened to be draco’s favourite.

draco thought back to that day. the dates didn’t match.

august the third; he remembered the day specifically because an important document had been released to him that night, with the date stamped in bold at the top. astoria had left him many months prior.

he imagined the hand in his again, the delicate feel of her skin against his. he created the mirage of a girl, and looked at the imagined version of her.

her. not astoria.

draco had mixed the memories up, had done it again. but it hadn’t been Y/N that he’d dealt as the replacement, it’d been astoria.

he’d imagined Y/N in astoria’s place.

february 29th: ‘one more time.’

the stupid thing draco had done was happening today.

as he teleported through floo powder, he thought about asking someone to take his quill away, if only to stop him writing letters ever again.

draco had written to astoria, and asked to meet.

her reply had sounded almost reluctant, but he claimed it was for ‘closure’. even if that weren’t true, he wouldn’t have minded seeing her again. maybe this was what they needed to get the relationship going again, or what draco needed to let himself let her go.

the station smelt incredibly familiar, like rushing people and departing trains, alongside the aromas of food prepared nearby. it sounded like deja vu, like warm steam evaporating in the air and the vibrating voices all blurred together amongst the brick.

in between the footsteps and whistles and thick smog of steam, he saw her.

astoria appeared with a small carrier case in her hand, enough to keep herself comfortable for the one night she’d be staying here before she returned to her house - her new home, away from him.

there wasn’t a slow motion reel like in the films. there wasn’t classical music in the background as an orchestra of violins served the introduction for the insignificant other. there were no doves, no sparks, no realisation that yes, she was all he’d ever needed.

instead, people continued to shuffle in between him and the image of her, unbeknownst to the relation between the two people across the station from each other. the sounds continued, the smells came stronger than ever, the world continued to go on.

astoria walked closer, and once she finally reached him she could only smile and breath out two words, gasped out in a string of an exhale. “hello, draco.”

he tightened his lips in a smile and nodded, “astoria.”

a few months ago, draco would’ve hated the way they had spoken like strangers. the same draco would’ve sighed with relief and sunken into her arms once she then abruptly pulled him closer and connected her hands tightly behind his neck.

he froze at first, automatically thinking of Y/N. then he remembered what had happened, and forced the feeling of unfaithfulness to dull. still, he felt as though she was watching from mere steps away, and pulled away further than old draco would’ve done.

her touch had changed. it dawned on him after they somehow got to a little cafe nearby, ordered some drink that he forgot about afterwards, and started some conversation that turned into a haze. the entire moment melted into a muted buzz while draco looked at astoria through a different pair of eyes.

she didn’t make him want to stay by her side for a lifetime anymore, in the sense of just being in her arms once made him so content.

his eyes searched her face - really searched it, trying to find that inch of magic he’d once sworn could never dim, hadn’t even considered the idea of it. she’d lost that godlike beauty that draco had glorified in his memory, and in her place he found a sight that terrified him.

Y/N smiled back at him.

draco shook his head and scrunched his eyes shut, then opened them to see a real, confused astoria with her lips halted in whatever she was saying. “you okay?”

he nodded slowly, “yeah. sorry, carry on.”

draco could blame so many things. distance had done this. it’d driven a wedge between him and astoria, someone he almost loved, and all he could see was a girl he’d meant to substitute her with. or, Y/N herself was the cause. from the very first day, she’d captivated draco with her voice, her eyes, her way of being.

with one last look at astoria, he thought to himself about how he really felt. she flourished a hand and, with a moment of actual attention, draco realised that she was talking about her job, and how it was entirely the right decision to make. the wall he’d subconsciously constructed to keep his feelings for astoria intact crumbled away - he let it turn to dust, until the barrier was simply spread amongst the grounds - and let himself consider reality for a moment.

with astoria, it was like he knew he could’ve loved her. but he couldn’t find where the love lay, where it spawned from and where it swelled. his heart? his very soul? perhaps…after all this time, it’d merely been in his head.

stories that had once felt like fairytales now felt like recapping simple memories from another life, another person ago.

with that lingering thought, he tried one last thing. he tested himself; if he could still predict and read her every move like he used to. he watched her take a sip of her sweet latte. she’s about to suck her teeth at the sweet taste, then purse her lips and smile.

his eyes followed every movement, and any onlooker would’ve noticed the worried, expectant look that sketched all over his features.

astoria put the cut down, lightly scrunched her face up and brushed back her hair. “it’s hot.”

and just like that, draco abruptly stood up and felt the chair vibrate a good distance away, heard the scraping of it against the floor. her eyes snapped up to him, and he only offered one farewell before he bolted to the floo port in the train station, “i’ve got to go fix something. i wish you well, astoria, i really do.”

if he ever looked back (which, given the girl that refused to leave his thoughts in the current moment, was impossible) he would’ve seen his ex girlfriend standing up and watching him run off, then the distant smile that stretched across her pink lips. she wished him luck, because whatever he was chasing after must’ve been worth it.

-

Y/N heard a banging against her door, and opened it to see a panting draco.

draco saw the door open, and felt his entire world come together into the seemingly small person before him. everything made sense, and somehow nothing had ever made felt logical before this.

Y/N had few seconds to furrow her brows and accusingly ask, “draco, did you run he - ” before draco’s hand grabbed the back of her head in a swift, gentle motion and pulled her onto him.

his fingers entangled into her hair, and felt the kiss start to flow into motion as Y/N un-stiffened and melted into it.

there would be time for explanations later, chances for reassurance after, but everything was right in that moment.

a rebound - she never was one. even from the first encounter. whether draco had convinced himself that Y/N was merely a replacement just to keep himself faithful to a woman who no longer belonged to him, or to protect himself from someone who he could love harder and heavier than any other woman before, he didn’t know.

but he did know that being this close to Y/N felt amazing, felt natural, and nothing in the world could ever go wrong if she only kept kissing him like that.

it was no longer astoria and draco.

it was her, and her’s.

[hellohellook]

DM. THE PUSH

angst. part one

see here for part two

in which he needs someone to take away the pain, and it just so happens you’re the perfect rebound.

this hurt in so many different ways

it’d ended on good terms, but maybe that was the worst part about it.

‘astoria and draco’ might’ve started with their parents introducing one another as the ideal couple and forcing them into a relationship, but it had turned genuine down the line. draco had come to really like astoria, and few times he’d admitted to himself that perhaps he could even love her. a few more months would’ve done it.

and then they broke up.

astoria hadn’t found someone else, nor had she decided that she didn’t love him anymore. it also definitely wasn’t draco’s idea, so why had it happened? why had they finished?

he’ll never forget the way her eyes had glistened in tears but she still smiled at him nonetheless while holding his hands. he could sense the goodbye underlying in her explanation, could taste the farewell on his tongue.

it had happened because astoria had told him she loved him, but an opportunity had come up. it was one for her career, one that required her to move across the country for a couple of years.

his first instinct was to pull away, and he saw the expectancy of this movement flash across her face. she didn’t look hurt, more disappointed that she’d been right. draco wanted to scream, break something, tell her how selfish she was, how he’d give her thrice the money this job could offer if only she’d just stay, but…then draco looked at her.

his time with her had flown past his eyes in a mirage of memories, and he couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice. he wouldn’t let himself be selfish, because astoria didn’t deserve that.

draco had sighed, and told her he’d support her no matter what. that she should go.

then, astoria had started crying. it stung in draco’s chest that, because she’d expected such a horrible reaction, him being supportive had brought such a storm of tears.

a few weeks later, and she was ready to leave. at the train station, it wasn’t a long send-off at all. the leave was only temporary, and she wasn’t supposed to stay there for longer than five years maximum - but somehow it had felt like a permanent goodbye.

he’d simply told her three words before she’d kissed his cheek and boarded the train. “i’ll miss you.”

draco would be lying if he said he was okay after her leaving. he felt lonely, but he wasn’t foolish enough to go drown himself in substances, or waste away doing nothing. he filled his time with hobbies he used to love - ones he’d dropped, for some reason - and kept his days obsessively full. he worked harder than ever at his job, and welcomed the paperwork into the late hours of night instead of dreading them and seeing them as things that took away what time he could’ve been spending with astoria.

however, he also had the issue of pride in the way, and so he never told his friends how he felt. the lonely hole was never quite filled with the countless books he read, or the various complex potions he made, or even the trips far away to wherever he felt like travelling to.

and then, he met you.

july 9th: ‘the start of it all’.

draco was in the middle of a large shopping centre in a magic part of london, just coming out of a shop for suits and the lot. he aimed mindlessly for the exit, bag in hand of a few new dress shirts for work.

a man almost bumped into him, apologised, and draco took no notice. a witch had managed to apparate right outside of a clothing store, holding a bundle of fabric in hand as a security guard chased after her moments too late, and draco thought nothing else of it. his old favourite book store was closing down, a large signed tape plastered over the entrance in reminder of this, and draco didn’t look twice.

in fact, he hardly registered these things had happened at all.

the only thing that had provoked his first meaningful thought of the day was a waft of perfume, carried by a cool breeze from a designer store of unisex luxuries. his head perked up: astoria’s perfume.

before draco even knew what he was doing, his legs started carrying him to the store and through the entrance. the shop was full of people, but all of them were very well dressed and even recognisable to him (if he really thought hard enough, maybe he could’ve sparked a name or two) because they were all well off witches and wizards who came from reputable names, since this store was only in their specific budget.

maybe that was one of the reasons astoria had loved it so much; because she was amongst her own people. draco had found it amusing how two faced his girlfriend - ex girlfriend - could be, because to the outside world she was the kindest of kind, and yet he could see the prejudice hidden in her, buried in her true thoughts and stemmed from her upbringing. it reminded him of himself a few short years ago.

he slowly paced past the shelves of bags, the countless racks of accessories and open wardrobes, and found himself in front of a counter full of perfume, in the centre of the store. to his back, the shop caved inwards into multiple curtained rooms - dressing rooms.

it was when his fingers had draped over the top of a recognisable bottle, admiring the familiarity of the golden, intricate lid, that a bright voice had shot through his mind.

it was unlike anything he’d heard before, but he didn’t know why.

“okay luna, how about this one?”

draco turned slowly, and if he was any less self dignified, his knees could’ve given out.

a girl stood there, fixing her dress and not yet noticing him, only just coming out of the dressing rooms. the dress did wonders for her figure, and the colour suited her skin perfectly, but that wasn’t what made this girl so pretty. beautiful, in fact. it wasn’t even her hair, that fell naturally and so full of volume. maybe it could’ve been her eyes, so bold in shape and piercing even when not on him.

he didn’t know what it was.

she spoke again, and draco had to lean against the counter in a casual facade to keep from walking any closer to her. “luna?”

she looked up, and draco found his hands gripping the counter. her hands stilled their motions, and her mouth then formed an ‘o’ in realisation. she sheepishly smiled then quietly giggled, “sorry, i thought you were my friend. she was here just a minute ago…” her gaze glanced around as if looking for said friend, then landed back to his eyes. his knuckles turned white.

draco had to clear his throat before saying anything, “it’s no problem. i’m draco. draco malfoy,”

god, why did he feel like such a child again? this felt eerily similar to when he’d made his first introductions back in his first year of hogwarts to Potter, and he could only hope that feeling of rejection wouldn’t repeat itself now. did his voice sound too forced? too bored? too eager?

“i’m Y/N Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure, draco.”

their eye contact held for a moment, and then another breezy voice interrupted them. “sorry, Y/N, i thought i noticed a new pair of spectrespecs, but no. oh! that dress looks lovely, much better than the last one.” she smiled, then turned to draco. “hello, draco. we haven’t seen eachother since hogwarts.”

he didn’t need to search his memory for the name of this woman. spectrespecs, that voice, that way of seeming like she could see everything we couldn’t; luna lovegood. draco nodded politely and tightened his lips in a vague, impression of a smile. “luna. nice to see you again.”

she smiled again and tilted her head kindly, then went back to her friend. Y/N smiled in a way that said goodbye (a much more friendlier and happier smile than the one astoria had given him at the train station) and they went to discuss the clothes Y/N had picked out.

draco didn’t know what else to do with himself, and he only then just realised how desperately his fingers needed loosening. the tips of them felt sore from gripping the edge of the counters, and he didn’t even know why his palms were sweating. then, he noticed the perfume bottles, and remembered what he was doing here in the first place.

and then, draco realised that he hadn’t thought about astoria during that entire interaction.

Y/N Y/L/N…she could be just what he needed.

draco couldn’t walk away from her, and so after a short moment’s hesitation, he ended up waiting outside the store for her. he leant against the wall with hands stuffed in his pockets, barely glancing at the magical folk walking past, when that unforgettable voice finally sounded out again.

she was saying something to luna, then she noticed him stood there. Y/N smiled, and that’s when draco stood up and spoke his way to getting her interested. the malfoy son was always a smooth talker, after all.

october 23rd: ‘lovers’ life’.

the scratching of the quill was one of the only sounds in the room. draco filled out his paperwork under the light of a few candles that split off into various pleasant aromas, the small flame itself fighting against the dark of autumn nights. the other sounds were calming, soothing almost. a crackle from the fireplace bounced around the room, and the gentle pitter patter of rain against the window panes felt almost welcoming.

draco ignored the cold he felt, because he had to get this work done. the sooner, the better, because then he could go upstairs to bed, and not have to worry about this parchment that was demanding his few hours of free time.

then, the stairs gave her away. draco smiled to himself as he heard his girlfriend carefully tiptoe downstairs, as if trying to be quiet in an effort to scare him. he kept his head down and continued writing absentmindedly - it’s not like all this wasn’t just muscle memory anyway - and listened in for her soft footsteps.

if he knew his girlfriend, she’d come downstairs with a throw blanket draped around her shoulders, and eventually complain about the cold.

astoria had always done that. she’d wear ridiculously thick layers, and then start accusing draco of somehow charming himself to be immune to the cold.

“are you faking it, malfoy?”

his face was incredulous, almost offended at the accusation. “you think i’m pretending to not be cold? for what?”

she rolled her eyes and pulled the two blankets tighter around herself. “it’s so unfair. how come i’m always freezing in this bloody house, but you seem completely fine?”

draco chuckled and shrugged, “packed with all this muscle, you see. it’s like a shield.”

astoria narrowed her pretty eyes, and turned away from him momentarily, pretending to give him the silent treatment. draco glanced at her back, amused. the plan lasted maybe few seconds before her head turned over her shoulder, and her eyes glinted with malice.

his eyes widened, and before he knew it draco had his girlfriend pouncing onto him. she tackled him flat onto the couch, and wrapped her arms around him simultaneously. once she was flat against him, cuddled onto the top of his body with blankets that once hung on her back now sprawled on top of them, she contently sighed and theatrically exclaimed, “that’s so much better. thank you, muscle man.”

two hands snake around his shoulders, resting around to the front of him. it’s a warm feeling to have someone come up from behind and embrace you, and Y/N’s presence sent such a comforting heat down his spine that he couldn’t help himself anymore, and so the paperwork was forgotten about. her voice was giggly and quiet, but obviously tired as she murmured, “boo.”

draco’s hands grabbed on top of hers, then he spun around in his chair and faced her. Y/N had her hands joined at the back of his neck now, and his own started trailing down her arms until they reached her waist, caressing the area slowly in endearment. “hi, darling.” the way he said it was dragged out, almost singsong like.

she laughed quietly in reply, bringing her face down closer to his with the help of draco’s hands placed onto her waist. he grinned, eyes directly on her lips at all times.

with his eyes closed, draco pictured astoria’s face in the forefront of his mind, and felt sorry for it.

january 16th: ‘i miss you at midnight’.

draco stirred, automatically moving his hand to the side of his bed to feel her there. instead of his fingers meeting the lump under the blankets that was his girlfriend, he met the empty, low mattress beside him.

all post-sleep tire forgotten about, he shot up and forced his eyes open despite the exhaustion threatening to close them again. the room was dark, but he could see the empty space beside him. warm, so she’d only just left. where’d she go?

panic overtook draco, and so he instantly got out of bed and made his way to the exit. down the stairs, through the hallways, everything was silent. his palms started sweating again. no no, not this again. this couldn’t be happening. draco didn’t know what he’d do with himself if another person left him - and whether he was scared of the actual repeat, or genuinely as terrified as he felt for the idea of Y/N leaving him, he didn’t know.

the panic was worse than when astoria had said she was leaving, and draco didn’t know why.

but he saw a sense of deja vu, and all he knew was that he had to find her before she left. he daren’t imagine she was already long gone, despite whatever the bed’s temperature wanted to imply.

it was a small clinking of glass that gave her away, this time. draco raced to the kitchen with frantic pace, and found Y/N leant against the counter in one of draco’s work shirts barely buttoned up to loosely cover herself, a glass of water in hand. once she noticed him, she stood up taller and a look of guilt flashed in her eyes. “sorry, did i wake you?”

he wiped anything but relief off of his features and walked towards her, “i don’t like sleeping without you there. you alright?”

she nodded and looked down at her drink. “i just had a nightmare.” her eyes glanced up at him, and he thought that she looked so beautiful under the faint moonlight that sliced in through the kitchen blinds. “you were in it.”

he smiled softly down at her. draco used to see astoria instead of her, but now Y/N was becoming her own person. it was scary, as if he was turning vulnerable once again.

“what happened?”

she breathed out a laugh, “it’s silly.”

draco stayed quiet, but leant onto the counter next to her and exhaled, “i’ve been scared of a lot of silly things, darling. you can tell me.”

Y/N smiled and slumped against him, her head rested onto his shoulder. draco kissed the top of her head, and stayed there for a second longer to notice the unique scent of her shampoo that reminded him of the most perfect kind of scent, and then stayed quiet to let her speak.

“you’d left me. i don’t know, you just walked out and said you got bored of me or something. you had suitcases and everything - maybe you were moving away?” her nose wrinkled and her brows deepened, but draco couldn’t see it from the angle he was at. though, he could tell by the tone of voice she used that she was figuring out what had actually happened in this dream as she was retelling it.

he ignored the panic that rose in himself at the idea of it, and pushed away the eery familiarity of it.

his arm came around her shoulders and firmly pressed her against him, “i wouldn’t.”

he felt he was telling the truth. and Y/N, closing her eyes and relishing the moment, believed him without a shadow of a doubt. she turned those two words into a promise, and let herself be vulnerable with him.

and, just like that, she had started to love him.

january 29: ‘rebound’.

she hadn’t seen draco in a week, because supposedly he’d been busy with work. Y/N understood, work was hectic at times, especially in his field. she’d left him small messages of support, and he’d replied to them all with sweetness and love.

she still hadn’t told him her realisation yet, but perhaps today was the day.

with a light heart and a feeling of anticipation bubbling in her chest, Y/N knocked on his manor’s door, patiently waiting for her lover’s answer.

it never came.

but he was in, because he’d sent a message just this morning letting her know he was taking the saturday to relax and just unwind. naturally, she’d taken it as an invitation to come deliver a few kisses, drop off the homemade soup she’d makes that morning, and then leave after to give him his ‘unwinding time’.

Y/N rounded to the side of the house, but couldn’t see anyone in the living room through the window. she walked around to the back, into the large garden, and found the sliding glass door ajar. two men were seated in the shade just outside of it, steaming cups of something on the table.

a happy, smug looking draco took one seat, and his somewhat amused friend sat opposite. they hadn’t noticed Y/N yet, and just as she was about to speak up and introduce herself, the friend spoke.

he was tall, almost intimidating in appearance. something about his demeanour reminded her of bad decisions and negative influences, but maybe she just didn’t know him well enough. what right did she have to judge someone off of their aura alone?

“so you’re using her?”

her interest peaked slightly. draco wasn’t the type to use people - he had everything he needed anyway, so who was the friend even referring to?

draco chuckled and took a sip of his drink. he hummed contently, “yeah. she’s the perfect replacement, i’m telling you.” he sat upright further and pointed at his friend as if he’d just remembered something, “i’ll tell you what, blaise, sometimes i’m convinced she was sent to me by fate. i met her when i was looking at some perfume shit astoria used to use - she was trying clothes on or something.”

her spine went rigid. it was her that they were talking about. she’d never forget the way they had met, it’d felt like a fairytale to her, and here he was spitting it out like it was some coincidence to convenience him; ‘astoria?’ who was that? had she ever even heard such a name in her entire time with draco?

blaise laughed in a sense of irony. “so what, the poor girl’s a rebound?”

draco shrugged, “she’s…she’s alright, actually.”

“i’m glad you think so, draco.”

both boys’ heads snapped upwards, draco’s eyes wide, blaise’s confused, startled. Y/N stood there, the flask of soup heavy in her bag, her heart heavier in her chest.

her hands wanted to curl into fists at the side of her body, and yet she didn’t have the energy to. all her effort was going into keeping the shedding of tears at bay, especially as the humiliation sunk in as his friend witnessed it all.

the past era of her life spent with draco felt like a sudden waste, and it was that that felt like an immense pushing force on her chest and influenced the painful lump in her throat.

draco barely managed to breath out, “Y/N…” before blaise made the revelation, and brought a hand to his mouth.

he gasped and chuckled as he dragged out, “shiiit, mate.”

[hellohellook]

DM. GLASSES

fluff

in which draco needs glasses more than he’d like to admit

“What does number six say?”

My voice was monotonous, bored, too used to reading questions off of the board for my boyfriend. “Wand movements of the banishing charm.”

His quill scribbled something down, the slight roughness of it vibrating into the wooden desk. There was then a blissful moment of silence in his split pause as he finished the answer, then he leaned in and whispered after a moment’s hesitation.

“What does number seven say?”

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Don’t get angry, don’t lose your patience. It’s not his fault that he can’t read the board.

I turned to face his expression of raised brows and confused eyes, and forced a smile. “How to perform a summoning spell.”

He flashed a grin, and quickly ducked to plant a kiss on my cheek.

I rolled my eyes and fought against my own smile trying to spread. Cheeky prat.

I went back to my questions, already a few ahead of him. This year’s charms content was even harder than the last, and it took every inch of brain to be able to memorise all these spells. My lip tucked between my teeth and I bit down hard, trying to remember the movements of a specific spell from two months ago. A swish and a diagonal? Diagonal and then a swish? Or was it a slash down and then a…flick? Flick down?

“What’s number eight say?”

I slammed my hand down onto the desk, my quill smushed beneath it as I sighed in frustration.

“Draco, you can’t keep going on like this.” I pointed at him with an index finger, “We can’t keep going on like this.”

His eyes widened, “are you breaking up with me right now?”

I rolled my eyes exasperatedly, but couldn’t help the breath of laughter at his expression. “You idiot. I mean you can’t keep going on with this godawful eyesight of yours. You need glasses.”

He crossed his eyebrows and scoffed, “I do not need glasses.”

“Yes, you do.”

“I can see perfectly fine, Y/N. Look - number six says ‘write down the wand movements for the banishing charm’.”

I gestured my hands in frustration, “I just read that for you.” I then turned and dug into my bag, shuffling around until I found my own prescription glasses. “Here, just try these on.”

He shook his head, hand already coming out to push away my offer. “I don’t need them.”

I shook the frames, “come on, just try!”

“Absolutely not!”

I tried pushing them towards his face anyway, but his hands came to fight them from me. I grabbed his wrist, and momentarily put the glasses down. Glancing around to make sure no heads were turned our way, I then leaned in closer. A gentle kiss was planted on his cheek, then a few briefer ones towards his lips.

I leaned closer and whispered, “Please try them on, Draco.” Kiss. “For me?”

He sighed, but took them off of me anyway. I fought against the grin as he placed them on his face, the black frames a stark contrast against his light complexion and platinum hair. Despite how he tried to hide it afterwards, his eyes widened in amazement as the words on the board brightened and became defined - readable.

Then he shook his head and pulled them off. “No difference. Don’t need them.”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult, it’s not like they look bad on you!”

“Nothing looks bad on me - ” I scoffed. “But I don’t need them, so why wear them?”

“Just one trip to the opticians won’t hurt. I’ll go with you? I’ll even hold your hand, if you really need me to.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “No, I’m not going and that’s that. Nothing even you can do, or say, will change that.”

“I’ll break up with you if you don’t.”

Draco put the glasses down and nodded blank faced. “Opticians it is.”

Despite the lack of truth behind my words, I flashed my smile in satisfaction and stuck my tongue out, then turned to focus back on my work.

Just as I was on the brink of figuring out the correct wand movement, a leg nudged me under the table. I hummed in reply, writing what might’ve been the answer down.

“What does number eight say?”

[hellohellook]

DM. A STORY ABOUT FATE

angst

because i live for angst and because this was requested a while back <3

I realised I loved Draco Malfoy a long time ago.

When he sat beside me every day during meals, and mine be the first set of eyes he would meet to tell a joke. The time where he’d won an important quidditch match and flew down to wave the snitch in my face. That day when he had brought me chocolate frogs from honeydukes because I had been banned from going to hogsmeade that week (for a stupid prank with the weasley twins), or the day when he stalked behind me in the library, carrying a mountain of books and - despite his begrudging complaints - his insistence on helping me.

It was a chest constricting type of love. The type that consumed me, even though we were merely teenagers. I felt that I could hardly breathe when he passed by, when he looked my way, when our legs accidentally touched under the table.

I had planned to confess before the triwizard tournament’s Yule ball, perhaps suggest the two of us go together, but then I found him in the busy hallway on the way to herbology, leaning against Pansy Parkinson’s locker and asking her instead. Two days later, someone else had asked me.

Someone who I couldn’t even recall to this day.

Okay, so a minor setback. There were other opportunities.

I had then met him just after astronomy one night by chance, his interruption to my peaceful moment up on the tower much more welcomed than he’d ever know. There, amongst the stars, I knew it was the perfect time to come clean. To spill my heart’s contents to him.

However, he instead talked about some foreign scent to his amortentia from that morning’s potions class that he couldn’t even identify - and if it was unknown, I knew it couldn’t have been me. So I damned my confession to the stars and forgot about it that night.

There were so many perfect opportunities, each ending with something to interfere with my chances. I’d eventually stopped trying to wait for the perfect moment like in the books, and instead just waited until we happened to be alone together. It was one night in the common rooms, nobody but the two of us and the crackling fire.

“Draco?”

He hummed, not looking up from his essay as his quill scribbled word after word.

“I have something to tell you.”

His hand paused, then his eyes shifted. To the table, to the fire, finally to mine. He cleared his throat and put down the quill, “actually, I have something to tell you too.”

Normally, I would’ve just let him say his piece - but not today. I was sick of missed chances, and I wasn’t about to lose another one. I shook my head, “Tell me after. It’s important.”

He crossed his brows briefly, but jerked his chin in go ahead anyway. “Go on, then. If it’s so important.”

I brushed my spotless robes, inhaling through my nose, exhaling through my mouth. This was it. The moment where I was to lose a friend, or perhaps gain a lover. “It’s about me.”

Draco nodded slowly, appearing to be listening even more attentively now.

I continued, slowly dragging the words out because, no matter how desperate I was to tell him how I felt, my heart was also in my throat at the thought of losing him as a friend. “I like…”

I paused as I flickered to glance at his carefully listening expression, wondering if it was better to just forget it. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to just love in silence, as long as I could continue to be close to him?

No. Just do it.

“I think I like - ”

“I like Astoria.”

The words were so quickly blurted out that I could hardly tell if they were real, or just a figment of my intrusive thoughts. It was as if icy wind whipped past my face, slapping me with a blinding cold.

And that was the end of my attempts to confess.

-

It was difficult to look at the dress hung up so neatly, although it may have sparkled so prettily underneath the lights. A lump in my throat accompanied a blotchy face, and it took a good few tries to cover up the unevenness with makeup.

Today was someone’s happiest day of their life, but considering my swollen eyes and sense of overwhelming regret, it might just be the worst of mine. Today, Draco was getting married.

And no, I wasn’t a bride. I was a bridesmaid.

Astoria Greengrass’s bridesmaid.

It took four deep breaths to get up from my bed and spread some makeup on my face, another three to pull the dress on. Once I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t think of the person staring back as beautiful. If I were as pretty as I once could’ve believed, why couldn’t Draco love me?

Why couldn’t I have been enough for him? What did Astoria have that I couldn’t have offered and been willing to sacrifice, all for him?

But I couldn’t blame him, I could only blame my own cowardice. The excuse after excuse that I told myself, that the opportunity I had to confess was never the right one. Draco was never to blame, he didn’t even know about my feelings.

And so, with a heavy dress and a heavier heart, I got into the rented limousine with the other bridesmaids, painted a smile over my coloured lips and pretended the bride was a different person.

-

Thanks to the two purebloods’ riches, the wedding was an extravagantly lavish set out. A carpet of floral blues and purples painted the floor and the decor, the gentle colours splashed against a basis of white.

The guests were slowly trickling in, the extras all doing their preparation.

Within the bridal suite, the maids gathered in a semi circle, waiting for the curtain to part to reveal Astoria.

“The decor today is phenomenally done - did you know Astoria chose the colour scheme herself? And - oh, the dress! The dress is incredible - have I ever told you, girls, that we’ve been dreaming of our weddings since we were children?”

I looked to the side of the party. Daphne Greengrass, the sister.

Her face was lit up, brightened with the bubbly champagne and excited joy. There must’ve been a difference between our presented happiness - while it seemed that Daphne’s very heart poured from her smile, I felt that mine throbbed from within in an attempt to not break. “To be honest, I never knew her day would come before mine!”

A chorus of girly laughter sounded out, until Daphne raised her glass and cheers-ed to the few around her. “Although, I could’ve predicted who she’d be marrying. Ah, they were just destined to be together ever since our first years at hogwarts!”

Destined to be together. The words tasted sour in my mouth.

Then, the curtains parted and Astoria flowed out, nervous smile glimmering on her pretty face, white dress bright. My chest constricted and my grin faltered ever so slightly, but I made sure to nod encouragingly when she looked my way.

She looked beautiful. I couldn’t even imagine how good Draco looked - I hadn’t seen him in about a year. Ever since we left hogwarts, our contact lessened and lessened until we ended up in silence after letters wishing each other luck in careers; then the next time I heard from him, it was an invitation to his wedding.

DRACO’S POV

I straightened my tie, glancing in the full length mirror and unsure of the man staring back.

The guests’ conversations were able to be heard through the doors, and I could hardly comprehend that they’d all be witness to a marriage soon. My marriage. To Astoria Greengrass.

A hand clapped my shoulder. I turned around so see my bestman, his eyes in a faint smile as he tightened his lips. “The big day, mate.”

I scowled, because if I were to flash a smile I feared only a weak attempt would come. I looked down, fixing the spotless black blazer and swallowed. Hard.

Blaise cleared his throat. “How you feeling?”

I shook my head, and turned back to the mirror. I loosened the tie, then started to redo it. Blaise stood beside me, carefully watching my reflection with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I responded. “I feel great.”

He raised his eyebrows briefly. Then he turned, and walked away.

Just before the door shut in its frame, he muttered something low enough to hear, but quiet enough to be kept secret from everyone else. His words made me sick to my stomach, my chest suddenly thumping at a sudden sense of loss. I didn’t reply.

I didn’t take my eyes off of my fingers, fiddling with that fucking tie.

-

The ceremony was due in seven minutes, and I needed some air. It’s not everyday that you commit to something as big as marriage.

I stalked around for a quiet room, and ended up finding a wide set of double doors towards the end of a corridor. The decor was lavish, all white and blue.

I hated blue.

I slowly inched through the frame, wary of any bridesmaids or the bride herself. The silence gave way to no one - it was safe.

My chest heaved, then an exhale was relieved. I leant against the wall and put my weight against it, aching for some support that other people couldn’t offer.

In seven minutes, I would become a husband.

We would talk about children. We would raise a family. We could be picture perfect.

Astoria deserved that.

A heavy feeling pressed like a brick against my chest, burning up and causing a cold sweat to break out. I tilted my head to the ceiling, focusing on the white paint and trying to ignore the weight. This feeling came and went, has done so these past few months - whenever it happened, I felt utterly consumed by it. It wasn’t until yesterday that I placed a name to it, the ugliest emotion that I have ever felt.

Guilt.

A rustling interrupted my thoughts. My eyes slowly glanced to the left, further into the room, to see somebody in a silk blue dress, small diamonds embroidered into the waistline. The bridesmaids’s dress. The feeling of having been caught stilled me, but when she turned around did I truly freeze.

There she was, like all the times I’d imagined this past year of distance - but this time, a real life image. I don’t know at what point I slowly got off of the wall, nor when I took steps towards her, but her wide eyes grew wider and her figure grew closer, until eventually we stood few metres apart.

Everything was just as I remembered. From her eyes, her lips, her hair, her mannerisms. The way she spoke.

I watched as her shoulders slightly rose in inhale, then she breathed out her greeting. “Hello, Draco.”

I tilted my head, studying her figure after seemingly so long. My life had changed so much since we last spoke, it hurt that I had no idea how much hers had. I ached to know.

Her hair was loose. Words formulated on my tongue, but I was so used to controlling myself with her. Suppressing everything I wanted to say. But I was getting married, there was no risk anymore. The heavy feeling pressed greater, but I still let the question roll off naturally. “You need help with that?”

She looked down at where my head nodded to; the hair tie on her wrist. She smiled down at it although creases didn’t quite catch her eyes, pulled it off, and turned.

Six minutes until the ceremony.

The brief metres between us were like oceans of breadth, yet the few strides it took to reach her felt like half a second. One moment, she was a stranger from a past life - the next, I was looking down at my Y/N.

Her hand reached around to pass me the hair tie. I took it, and felt a foreign smile on my lips as I didn’t know what exactly to do with it. I don’t remember the last time I smiled without planning it.

The hair tie went in between my teeth, and my hands both collected her hair in my hands. Soft, just like I remembered. I ran two fingers down her head to part it into three strands, desperately ignoring the way she shivered at the feeling.

And I braided her hair. I found my mind reliving when I had to do this for the Yule ball for her.

-

“You have to help me, Draco!”

I shook my arms at my side like a child, “Oh, why? Can’t you get one of your friends to do it for you?”

She peered over her shoulder to glare at me. “Luna is fucking clueless when it comes to hair, and Daphne is too busy making sure her dress matches with Blaise’s suit. So no, you’re the best option I have.”

I scoffed, but let her guide me through the process anyway. It was a bittersweet feeling of having my hands run through her soft hair, able to take my time with seeing how she reacted to different delicate touches to the scalp, taking delight in the shivers and the small laughs that followed - and yet, I knew I was helping her get ready for a date that was not me.

It was my own fault. I had planned on asking Y/N to the Yule ball, and yet I kept putting it off. Then, I overheard Fred Weasley talk about his plans to ask her out instead. He had a whole elaborate show planned, too, something involving firecrackers and whizzbombs.

And so I made do with…I don’t even remember who anymore.

-

She turned back around, and I felt my legs turn weaker once more. “Thank you, Draco.”

I nodded. “Aren’t you going to join the other girls?”

Y/N glanced to the side, presumably looking at a clock, while my eyes stayed on her face. I studied those few seconds where her lips parted as she read the time, then tightened as she turned back to look at me. “You’re right, I should get going.”

I noticed she took a harsh swallow, and felt the need to do the same. If only not for the several knots in my throat preventing me from doing so. “Five minutes until your big moment, huh? How are you feeling?”

I flickered between both of her eyes, relishing in the quiet around us, blocking out the sound of guests from a wall away. I pretended these five minutes would last an eternity, and imagined that I hadn’t been a coward all those years ago. That I had just confessed how I felt. That Y/N could love me back.

But she didn’t. And I hadn’t.

“I feel great.”

-

The alter was a place where dreams came true, but for Draco it felt like a pending black hole. He looked into the eyes of his to-be wife, her hands in his, feeling like lead that threatened to pull him down.

If not for the guests watching, he would’ve let go of her touch and took a step back, if only for a moments breath of fresh air that he feel he couldn’t get from standing so close, but he thought he’d spare the embarrassment of them both.

“Do you, Astoria Eurydice Greengrass, take Draco Lucius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband, both in sickness and in health, till death do you both part?”

Her eyes flickered from him to the priest, and that moment where her gaze lifted felt like the alleviation of a thousand weights. Then she looked back, smiled, and nodded. Draco momentarily closed his eyes, and pretended the bride was a different person.

“I do.”

His eyes opened again.

Tears gleamed in hers, and Draco hated the idea of causing her to cry anything but happy tears. Astoria really, really deserved better than him.

The priest might have looked to Draco. He might’ve repeated the question. The guests might’ve all been staring.

But Draco suddenly couldn’t hear. He couldn’t see. All he could feel was soft hair, and softer ribbon. He could smell her unique scent, a mix of natural, unchangeable bliss and her sweet perfume. Something he could never identify, something he had smelled all those years ago in his amortentia, and would smell the rest of his years at hogwarts. Something he had smelt just five minutes ago, in the bridal suite, with her.

Embarrassment be damned, he felt his hands let go. He saw Astoria cross her brows. He heard the whispers, the gasps of disbelief. He focused on his feet taking a step away from the woman that was never meant to be his wife, and then looked to the bridesmaids that stood behind her. More specifically, the one missing.

She was waiting for him.

Draco took off without a second thought, his legs working clearer than his mind.

Y/N. His love. His hope. His amortentia scent. The one he was meant to marry.

His parents would be furious, but Draco should never have let them arrange such a relationship to begin with.

He would never let anything, or anyone, suppress his decisions again. He spared a moment for the woman at the alter - perhaps an apology would’ve been polite. With a newfound sense of hope, Draco raced down the hallway towards a set of double doors, muscle memory overpowering that familiar fear of regret, rejection.

Blaise’s previous words rang out in his head.

His bestman had spoken to him not as a member of the groomsmen, but as a friend, all about half an hour ago.

“It’s not too late.” He had said.

The words pounded through his head. They gave him the energy to make his final few leaps towards the double doors, towards a new life.

His whole future flashed before his eyes - marriage, done properly and genuinely, children, a family, love, free of regrets - and his hands reached out to throw open the doors.

They clambered against the walls with the same urgency that was fuelling Draco, as his head swivelled around to find his should-be wife.

He didn’t have to look far.

There she was, in all her loveliness. All her bright and beautiful colours, only tainted by that blue bridesmaids dress.

And there was Theodore Nott, hand around her waist, the other cupping her cheek, the back of his head just angling perfectly to cover their connected lips.

From where he stood, he noticed Theo’s thumb come to wipe away her tears as they fell, perhaps the most painful kiss he had ever witnessed.

Draco’s stomach dropped to beneath his knees, which could no longer hold his weight. Perhaps they didn’t hear him, perhaps they didn’t care.

His mind blurred. Thousands of thoughts raced by, none coherent.

He just about made it outside those doors when he dropped to the carpeted ground.

And stared.

Y/N, on the other side of them, let the leaking of her eyes cleanse all the pain she had carried with her for years. All those moments she had tried so hard that were interrupted, or imperfect, or not the right time - it was all meant to be.

She accepted this was her fate, and that Draco wasn’t.

Theo’s lips felt warm, comforting against hers, his thumb gently acting as a constant to wipe away tears. He had loved her for many years, and it was perhaps finally the time to move on. To let herself be loved.

She pressed further into him, breathed in his unfamiliar scent, and let herself cry one final time about the groom.

[kalista-101]

⋆｡° ☾ THRILL YOU ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

michael jackson x girlfriend reader

summary: you and michael love thriller movies, but that doesn’t mean you’re immune to being frightened… or his relentless teasing.

content: fluff, suggestive (ish) near the end, but no smut.

“ ‘Cause I can thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try~ ”

word count: 2k+

a/n: I just rewatched the thriller mv/short film for the 100th time and I can’t stop thinking abt the lyrics (line above specifically🫣). I recommend rewatching it before reading this for just the general vibes loll. also mb for literally writing smth new when I have three other works to finish off- someone stop me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~⋆｡° ☾ ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BOO

The creature suddenly appeared on the big screen, causing everyone at the drive-in movies to jump in fear.

Everyone except for Michael, who was absolutely relishing in the thrill factor.

I instinctively held tighter onto his arm and hid away behind his shoulder, as tension built up in the film.

We were both lying on the bonnet of his red Mercedes-Benz, with blankets and pillows against the windscreen for extra comfort. The mid-summer sun had almost fully set behind us, and the crisp air twined with the smell of warm popcorn.

I heard him let out a breath of amusement as he glanced towards me.

“Baby, you’re missing the movie.”

“Oh no, I can still hear.” I assured, muffled against his candy-apple red jacket, causing him to chuckle quietly, while the audience let out another shriek from whatever was happening onscreen.

“I thought you liked thrillers?”

“I love thrillers!” I defended, still using him as a human shield from the horrors being projected.

Michael gave me a pointed look that I could sense instead of see.

“This is just how I enjoy them?”

“You’re scared.” He said, endearment written across his face.

I lifted my head the slightest bit to peek at his expression, immediately returning to hiding away behind his shoulder once more. Not from fear this time, but fluster.

Since the early stages of our relationship, I always struggled with the intensity of his gaze. The way he looked at me with so much admiration.

His eyes were already so mesmerising; being filled with such love seemed all too much for me to remain calm.

Michael melted into his smile, dipping his head down towards me to whisper: “it’s too cute.”

And because he knew exactly what he was doing- and the reaction he would receive- he added, with a wicked grin: “you have to be careful, Y/n. I don’t think my heart could handle loving you any more.”

My brain almost short-circuited.

The way he said it. Too natural.

“You’re too cruel.” I accused, fighting the blush threatening to take over.

“What? Can’t I call my girlfriend cute?” He asked effusively.

“Just watch the damn movie, Michael.” I said, finally returning his gaze in insincere frustration.

That caused him to laugh derisively, seemingly pleased with just how much he affected me. But he did as I instructed and looked back towards the screen with a humoured shake of his head.

It didn’t take long for me to return to clutching onto his arm like a lifeline. However, I didn’t miss the way his expression grew incredibly smug, most likely from how I relied on him for ‘protection’ from the terrors onscreen. Yet I was unable to let go.

If I was being honest, I loved it. I loved how he was someone I could depend on when I was frightened or absolutely anything else. How he always understood me so well; enough to know what I needed without me having to even say a word.

Then, there was a scene where the protagonist, Cary Elwes- one of Hollywood’s heartthrobs, was shirtless and breathless from being chased by a monster.

My girlfriends, who were led on a picnic blanket and the fresh grass near the front, cheered and one even feigned a swoon from the close up of him, causing me to let out a breath of amusement.

Michael didn’t share the sentiment. He looked to the actor onscreen- as if he had personally offended him- then to me to gauge my reaction, with a smidge of jealousy tingling through him.

Because I could practically feel his eyes on me, I laughed lightly to myself and rested my head against his shoulder; wordless reassurance that he didn’t need, but I wanted to give anyway.

He tried and failed to resist the smile creeping onto his face and the hint of red dusting his cheekbones. As if wanting to further close the distance, he moved his arm from between us to wrap around my waist. Quiet possessiveness.

It was nothing new, and yet sparks of heat still flourished from the contact.

My girls at the front turned back to look at me, cheesing and gushing as they did. One of my particularly close friends hit another’s arm and most likely said something about how unfair it was that we were just so ‘stinking adorable together’.

“This was the real reason you wanted to watch a horror movie, wasn’t it?” I said to Michael as if I had caught him out on a secret.

“You told me how much you love thrillers!” He defended innocently, before conceding from the unconvinced look I gave him. “Okay. But was it also an amazing excuse to hold you close?”

I raised my brows, awaiting.

“Absolutely.” He grinned and tilted my jaw up to kiss me.

I felt his smile against my lips, almost melting like honey from his touch alone. And the way he moved: slow, reverent. Savouring the moment.

Sudden cheers told us both that we had an audience. We broke apart and he really couldn’t contain his smile, as I blushed.

“Get a room!” Marlon jeered from the car beside us.

The drive-in theatre was booked and filled only with our close friends and siblings, so no one was disturbed from our chatter throughout the movie.

“Marlon, you’re just jealous that they’re smitten and you’re alone.” My friend countered, causing a round of laughter.

Michael’s hand trailed along my waist, intending to soothe my embarrassment, but having the opposite effect. He knew it too, and couldn’t have looked more pleased with himself.

“Yeah? You wanna do something to change that?” He shot back at her, leaning back against on his arms in an attempt to look nonchalant. My friend instantly blushed, completely stunned, as our friends hollered at the two of them.

“In your dreams.” She denied, setting everyone off again, with many comments of how unconvinced everyone was.

Jermaine clapped Marlon’s shoulder, probably asking if he was going to ‘just take that’.

“Guys, I’m trying to watch the movie!” Another friend interjected, encouraging the others to groan and throw popcorn towards him in jest.

Me and Michael were hunched over in hysterics at our friends’ antics. This wasn’t the quiet date night we had planned originally, but it was so much better. We had our personal moments to ourselves and ones shared with everyone we cared about. A perfect blend.

As the movie came to an end, the credit scene was accompanied by one of Michael’s songs, setting our friends off again, now chanting his name.

By then, the sun had fully set, bringing out a full moon bright enough to overpower the yellow hues from the lanterns hung.

I softly kissed his cheek, filled with pride for him and shamelessly leaving a trace of lipgloss. All that effort and talent; he really deserved every bit of glory that came with it.

His shy laugh after was so mellifluous, so endearing, as crimson shaded his face. I loved this side of him as much as his confident and debonair side, that was becoming more prominent the longer we were together.

It truly was a gift being one of the few to know him beyond the spotlight and glamour.

“Oh, Michael’s completely gone.” Jermaine pointed out, noticing the blush on his cheeks.

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes humorously.

“What’s that on your cheek?” Marlon teased and the others hooted. There really never was a dull moment when all our friends were together.

“Courtesy of my lady.” Michael showed off proudly and I laughed.

“You’re both so in love it makes me sick.”

“Aw, stop it Marlon. You’re making them get all flustered.” My friend cooed, absolutely not helping the situation.

“Just look at them.” Our friends all gushed.

Me and Michael weren’t doing well with all the excessive attention focused on how much we adored the other, with me hiding behind my hands in humiliation and Michael scoffing in amusement and looking away.

“You guys are too much,” he laughed, sliding down from his car bonnet and holding his hand out to help me down too. He then addressed directly to me: “come on, let’s leave them to it.”

All at once, everyone yelled out complaints.

“Heyyy, don’t be like that.”

“We were just joking.”

“No stay!”

I hugged my girls, saying goodnight, as Michael tidied the blankets and pillows away into the backseat his car.

“He clearly just wants to be alone with Y/n.” Jermaine leered, as Michael reached out for my hand as if being apart was physically taxing.

“Couldn’t you tell before?” He asked satirically, before turning around to rush off with me, laughing as we did, before anyone could make another comment.

⋆｡° ☾ ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

“You two lovebirds have a nice evening.” The old ice cream man, whom we both recognised well from our frequent visits, said with a pointed look.

“Have a nice night.” I responded with a laugh, as Michael paid for a portion sized tub of ice cream to share between us: a scoop of salted caramel for me and vanilla for him. Just like always.

As we walked through the empty streets, soft lights lit up the path along with the glowing moonlight. So serene, and yet the chill from the movie still stayed with me.

A rustle behind us had me snapping around. Michael noticed immediately and chuckled, instantly swinging his arm around my shoulders in comfort like it was instinctive.

“It was only a movie.” He tilted his head knowingly.

“And it did a great job frightening everyone half dead,” I retorted and pointed my wooden spoon towards him. “Just don’t blame me if I call you at midnight for the next two weeks scared out of my mind.”

“Maybe that was my goal all along. My mastermind plan.” He mused, taking the spoon off me for himself before I could take a bite.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“You love it.” He grinned, and I didn’t deny it.

A beat passed, then-

“What was that?” Michael suddenly turned to look behind us.

“Michael?” I still had a smile on my face, but concern slowly replaced it.

“There’s something out there.” His eyes fixed on the only area void of light, completely engulfed in darkness.

“Very believable.” I acknowledged satirically.

“No, look.” He said, and -because my curiosity got the better of me- I stepped right in front of him to see from his line of sight. Right into that dim corner full of shadows.

My brows furrowed together, trying to distinguish the shapes.

Then, a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind and lifted me up, as I let out a shriek of pure fear.

And immediately after, Michael’s hysterical laughter rang right next to my ear, echoing through the cool air.

I let out a sigh mixed with relief and annoyance. He held me tighter, soft curls brushing my cheek, still finding humour in the situation.

“So not funny.” I said and playfully pushed him away.

Clapped his hands together and faced away from me, as if to say ‘priceless’, to which I rolled my eyes at. And just to top it off, he took the ice cream off me, as if it were a victory prize.

“You’re too cute not to tease.” He smiled, nudging my shoulder to close the distance again.

“I won’t be falling for it again.”

“Okay.” He held his hands up in defeat.

“But you know this time of night is the most dangerous, right?”

“Is that so?” I played along just to entertain him.

“Oh, yeah. Ghosts and monsters lurking about- watching our every move,” Michael trailed his fingers down my spine to create a chill. I brushed him off with a laugh. “I guess we have to stay close.”

His arm returned to around my shoulder: warm and comforting.

Suddenly, tentative water droplets fell against the pavement and against my skin, cooling the summer night air.

“Let’s get back to the car.” I said, as the rain gradually increased in fervour.

It didn’t take long for it to quite literally pour it down, and we both began to run back to his car, laughing foolishly all the while.

He took off his red leather jacket to shield me from the rain, with his bare arms above me generating heat against the chill in the air.

His Mercedes-Benz drew closer into view and he opened the door for me to get in first. All our friends had cleared the area by then and had probably returned home. Michael got into the driver’s side, with an exhale of relief. Safe from the weather.

I couldn’t help but admire the sight in front of me: him now in his white shirt- tight in areas dampened from the rain, curls clinging to his forehead, and the moonlight illuminating his features in the most flattering way possible.

“You alright?” His brows creased from the way I stared at him for longer than necessary. A lock of hair fell before his eyes, as he dipped his head in concern.

Devastatingly. Attractive.

I hummed in response, letting a slow smile appear.

He understood at once.

“Oh.”

And because he was cruel, he leaned over, teasing by lingering just near enough to my lips, then abruptly moved to pull the seatbelt over me, letting my eyes trace his jawline.

The cold impact of distance was instant when he returned to the driver’s side.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He said, as if completely unaware of the effect he had, and started the car.

⋆｡° ☾ ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

The drive was accompanied by symphonies of heavy rainfall and neon city lights.

Conversation flowed naturally again, as we shared ideas about the thriller we watched, other movies, and more.

But my focus briefly drifted to the way his hand gripped the gear stick.

He had really nice hands.

Michael must have notice the sudden silence, because he glanced over at me and followed my gaze, letting out a breath of amusement after.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” He defended with a grin that said everything.

Michael parked his car as we arrived at my place all too quickly.

Despite being with him all day, I still craved more of his presence. That was something that never changed for either of us no matter how long we’d been together.

There was also another reason I didn’t want to be alone-

THOOM

The thunder struck hard in the distance, causing my breath to hitch considering how on edge I’d been since watching the film.

“You’re still scared.” He acknowledged, full of affection.

“And you weren’t even the slightest bit during the movie?” I asked despite knowing the answer.

Michael smiled and shook his head. His eyes flickering over my features. Such a deep shade of honey brown. Holding so much emotion.

I loved the way he was so cavalier. Towards fear. Towards other girls. Towards anything, but me; like he believed the world was truly ours to just enjoy.

And sometimes nothing else mattered.

A flash of lightning highlighted the side of his face, followed closely by another crackle of thunder.

“Will you stay the night?”

The words slipped out before I could second guess myself.

Michael raised his brows, almost incredulously, but very pleased.

“Aren’t you scared?”

Another strike from the storm.

It somehow emphasised the silent tension increasing between us: hot and heavy. Lingering in the air.

“I know you’d protect me from any monster, serial killer, or ghoul lurking in the shadows.” I said sarcastically, easing the atmosphere.

“Protect you?” His eyes darkened at that, like it was exactly what he wanted to hear. “Baby, I’ll thrill you more than any ghoul would ever dare try.”

A response I hadn’t anticipated at all. But-

“You know how much I love thrillers…”

꧁ ༺ ❀ ༻ ꧂

masterlist.

taglist: @a-motherfcking-fish <3 +yourself

[hellohellook]

When will the icon return???

[hellohellook]

DM. PLAYING THE PLAYER

series - CHAPTER ONE

PROLOGUE, I, II, III, IV

read the prologue first or this will probably NOT make sense<3

the bird perched on my desk, pitifully staring back at me with feathers as white as snow. as if mocking my cowardice. I scowled back at its beady black eyes, the bird cocking its head back in confusion.

I glanced around the classroom at the other students chanting out half-hearted spells and flicking their wands like animals. we were supposed to be doing a transfiguration spell of turning a white dove into a feather, but only one student had seemed to manage it so far. I eyed hermione granger's perfect feather, neat at the tips and crisp throughout. of course, it was an easy spell. I could easily be the second student to perform it, but I had a plan. a plan that I was already hesitating to take the first steps of.

alas, another student then managed to turn their dove next. I bit the end of my thumb as I noticed it was him who accomplished it, him who earned a few impressed looks from peers. a feather even neater than grangers', slightly greyed at the edges sat atop his desk.

draco malfoy.

I took a deep breath and stood from my seat, finally readying myself to put the plan into action.

I'd been plotting all weekend, sketching all different routes I could go down in order to succeed in bringing this particular boy down. and, after ignoring the heap of assignments from my classes and pretending like my exams weren't around the corner, I'd finally perfected the most spotless plan known to witch and wizard-kind. meanwhile, daphne had spent the whole weekend complaining in my ear about how this wasn't going to work. about how I was 'getting involved for no reason', and that I should be 'studying'. but how was I supposed to study knowing that there was a prat roaming the halls who might leave one of those heartbroken ghosts in his wake? I mean, I couldn't believe the school actually allowed such a person to just walk freely around the corridors and not try everything in their power to keep him from laying his eyes on another girl ever again!

fortunately, thanks to my ingenious and brilliant mind, that future might come to pass. all I needed to do...was get up from my seat and approach the culprit.

I took a deep breath, surveying the scene before I made my move. the classroom was set up like a stage, wooden stairs on either side of the room serving as the platform for the students' desks, the middle of the floor the professor's desk and walking area. velveted, dark purple curtains were pulled to the side by an orange rope, allowing bounds of late afternoon sunlight to stream into the room and coat it in gold. dust specks floated amongst students too engrossed in their task to notice me now rounding my desk, dusting off my own robes and making them neat.

I fluffed my hair and rolled my shoulders back. think feminine, think desirable, think unforgettable.

I made my way down the steps slowly as harry potter switched his dove at the bottom of the steps. i smiled to myself - perfect timing, potter. i made myself appear to be studying the pages of a thick textbook wrapped in navy blue binding, all the while really focusing on getting my steps exactly right. I took the next step down, and suddenly was met with a hard back that bustled when I collided with it.

bingo.

I looked up from my book, eyes widened and lips parted in an innocuous manner. "oh, I'm so sorry, draco. I didn't see you there."

a tall frame stood before me, hands frozen in the position that they were previously in - long, pale fingers stroking the soft feathers of a white dove turned back from a feather. his blonde hair glinted lighter under the stark contrast of the orange sun, and his initial recoil at my contact softened when he laid eyes on the girl before him. i felt the side of my lips twitch in a smirk, already knowing everything was going according to plan, but suppressed it for the sake of looking innocent and dumb, just for him. I duly noted draco’s desk partner, a tanned boy just as tall, eyebrow raised as I felt his eyes flicker from me, to draco. unfortunately, blaise wasn't part of the plot. otherwise, he was so very handsome that I nearly struggled to keep my eyes from him.

"don't worry about it." draco took his hands from the dove that cooed in disapproval at the lack of attention, and rounded the side of his desk. he leant against the edge of it, now closer to me that my hands gripped the book just a little tighter, but a reasonable distance away that it seemed innocent enough to everyone else. he grinned, and his teeth glinted white. "I wouldn't mind a girl like you running into me."

i curled my bottom lip between my teeth ever so slightly, biting it just enough that his eyes were drawn to them and lingered. i lowered my head in mock shyness, a real grin threatening to break out on my face. i don’t know what i was so nervous for, this was exhilarating.

i brought my head back up to meet his curious eyes. i don’t know if it was the adrenaline pumping through my veins that made my legs feel lighter, but as he pulled his gaze from my lips to my eyes with the slowest manner, a knowing smile dancing behind his stare, i struggled keeping my stance stable. maybe this was more dangerous than i thought.

“it might be a good thing actually, me running into you.” i tucked my hair behind my ear, a movement that his eyes also followed, like he wanted to drink in every movement of mine. “i really needed help with this spell.”

he made a sound that was like a scoff, but much softer and much less hostile. “oh, really?”

a nod, and i made sure to lightly flutter my eyelashes as i replied, “i was on my way to ask someone for help, i thought maybe harry might - ,”

“oh, don’t worry about potter. he won’t be able to help you like i can.” i slowly smiled in reply, nodding as his grin flashed in response. he untucked his hands from his pockets and grabbed his wand from the desk, muttering something to blaise about how he was ‘on his own’ for a bit.

a large hand clamped over his shoulder before he could turn back around. “uh, malfoy? you were supposed to help me now. you think i’ve got a clue how to put spells on fucking birds?”

a chuckle left draco’s lips, his hand swatting away his friend’s in a casual manner. “right, right.” he turned his head behind him, “oi, parkinson.”

the brunette girl already had her eyes set on the aristocrat, and gladly batted her lashes at his attention. “yes, draco?”

“do you think you could help zabini with his spell?” she was by blaise’s side before he even noticed that his best friend was pawning him off.

“anything for you, draco.”

despite her words of eagerness to help, her own bird perched on her desk remained unturned.

pansy parkinson was perhaps one of the few girls left in hogwarts who hadn’t been left to heartbreak by draco, hadn’t even been given much attention by him at all, but she, much like everyone else, thought that she was special. different.

although i didn’t care for her much, i pitied her for such thoughts. i’d made sure that draco never had the chance to hurt her and others like her in the future, even if it meant putting my pride on the line by flirting with the prat. it would all be worth it in the end.

when draco turned back to me, his eyes were set on me like a magnet, and a twinkle shone beneath that stare as he said in a low voice, “come on, dovey. let me teach you that spell.” his arm swung around my shoulders lazily as if guiding me to my own seat, and i couldn’t help but eye his large hand as he said, “when i’m done with you, you’ll be a master at this.”

i looked up at him, and he smiled down at me. when i’m done with you, you’ll wish you’d never laid eyes on me. i grinned back, and it was a genuine one this time. i felt giddy and happy, only because i knew that i could tick off the first box on my schedule when i got back to my dorms tonight. draco didn’t know what was coming - didn’t know that his next target was actually going to finish him for good.

“hey, by the way…”

i hummed in response as we reached my row.

“i didn’t quite catch your name, doll. what did you say it was?”

i froze, a pause just before i was about to slide into my seat. he…didn’t recognise me from the night in the common rooms? he…hadn’t seen me around in classes? i pushed away what felt like disappointment and glazed it over as annoyance instead. prick.

“Y/N.

draco malfoy slid into the seat next to mine, wand twirling between his long fingers as he rested his chin on his spare hand, facing me with a boyish grin. “Y/N. such a pretty name.”

-

the door slammed in its frame, my back hitting against it as i inhaled, then audibly exhaled all my emotions with a blissful smile on my face.

daphne jumped at the sudden sound, her slender figure led down on her bed, glasses halfway down her face as she froze with a hand mid-turn on the magazine page beneath her.

“i take it that went well, then?”

i giggled, a quiet, tame sound that soon escalated into a louder laugh, dancing on the spot in a giddy manner until i opened my arms and ran towards my friend. i jumped onto her and embraced her with excitement, her shout of surprise greeting me instead. “Y/N, my magazine! you’re wrinkling it!”

“it literally couldn’t have gone better!” i replied, ignoring her complaints as i flopped over to lay on my back. she eyed me as she got herself back in her prior position on her stomach, smoothing out the pages as she stayed quiet for me to go on.

my hands illustrated mid-air as i spoke, “he’s done for. i’m telling you, daph, as soon as he laid eyes on me,” i paused, fingers clamping into a fist in a grasping motion, “i had him right in the palm of my hand.”

a laugh came from beside me in response. i rolled onto my front, shoulder bumping to hers. “actually, except one thing.”

daphne pulled her glasses off, now more intrigued in my story. “oh?”

i rested my head on both hands, my palms squishing my cheeks upwards. “he asked me my name. i mean, can you believe it? he didn’t even remember meeting me just last week.”

a scoff came from daphne in response, “as if you’re surprised by that. this is draco we’re talking about. he’s on a new girl every week.”

i rolled my eyes, “exactly. i shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s just so annoying. i mean - ”

“you hoped to be different from all the others and you feel a crushing disappointment that draco didn’t remember you?”

i whipped my head to face her, nose wrinkling in distaste. i lifted my leg just to prod my foot into her thigh, “i couldn’t care less what that buffoon thinks of me. and besides,” i got up from the bed, gathering my hair to tie it up, “it’s not even that.” i wrapped the hair-tie around my ponytail in the mirror before turning back to daphne, “it’s just rude.”

she pffed again, “yeah, right. it’s his manners that bother you. you sure it’s nothing to do with the fact that he’s actually secretly fucking gorgeous, even if you try and deny it?”

i pulled out my notebook from my drawer, grabbing the nearest quill i could find. the first box glittered in black ink - ‘make a first impression that he’ll never forget’.

a smile stretched on my face again. “nope.” i replied, checking it with a flick of the wrist before shutting the book again with a snap. “couldn’t care less about him.”

-

the gap between the books wasn’t very big, but it was large enough to observe the two figures chatting in the opposite aisle. i held the two books that i’d pulled out to make the gap in my hands, pretending to be studying the blurbs when i was really just listening in to their conversation. it was muffled, and i could only make out the odd word about quidditch, snape, and then something about someone’s father. i sighed, putting ‘history of muggle technology’ and ‘muggle modes of transport’ back into their respective places.

two days after i’d literally bumped into draco in transfiguration class, and it was now time to slot the next piece of the plan into place. it was soon enough that the lesson should still be somewhat fresh in his mind, but it had also been long enough that he should have had time to miss me.

i breathed in, and breathed out. this would be easy.

the library seemed to move in waves as the candlelight cast shadows onto the walls, the candles the only source of light against a thick, black night outside. a few stars peeped through the sky and could be seen through the massive windows that stood proudly from ceiling to floor, but they weren’t enough to add anymore light to the room.

i slowly rounded the bookshelf and kept my attention on the shelves above, studying the spines as if searching for something in particular. the deep voices were more audible here, now only a few feet away at the further end of the aisle, muttering amongst themselves.

i took a slow step towards them, still keeping my eyes on the books. out of the corner of my vision, i noticed a head of platinum hair glance over in my direction, checking who the new stranger was. i don’t know what i was expecting exactly, just that i was supposed to run into him again and get a chance to flirt with him - and what better place to do that than in an isolated, candlelit library at night? but…what i didn’t expect him to do was just turn back to blaise and continue his conversation.

seriously? did he not realise who it was? did he not remember our moment in the classroom? shouldn’t he be already on his way over here, leaning over me against a bookshelf with a smirk on his face?

i huffed quietly, mentally formulating a new plan to get his attention. this entire plot wouldn’t go well if we didn’t have more than one interaction.

“excuse me?”

i whirled my head to face the speaker, a voice so rich and an accent so lovely. pale eyes twinkled back at me, and i mentally laughed. never mind, this was going fine.

“oh, yes?” i smiled back sweetly, turning my body to face draco.

his hand extended, and i looked down to see a scroll of parchment in his palm. “you seemed to have dropped this.”

my lips parted in surprise, then i quickly checked my bag to see the empty space where my homework had previously occupied. i let out a breathy laugh, “thank you, draco.”

taking the parchment off of him, i let our fingers brush in the slightest, most delicate of contact as i ignored that strong gaze deadest on my every move.

from the short interactions i’ve had with draco malfoy, i’ve noticed one thing; his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, like he wanted to remember how you did every little thing.

i fought the urge to roll my eyes as i placed the scroll back in my bag. of course he’s attentive. he’s a mastermind with girls.

i looked back up at him, stretching a soft smile on my lips once more and blinking slowly. “this is the second time you’ve helped me this week. i think perhaps i should make it up to you.”

i expected a smirk, perhaps a charming grin and a step closer to me. instead, i watched as his brows furrowed slightly, his eyes now flickering between both of mine as if studying them carefully. i could only fight the urge to face palm as he uttered his next words, a question that i would probably not relay to daphne in light of saving face.

“have we met before?”

i clenched my jaw, looking down briefly in a fake giggle. “you’re silly, draco. you - ” i paused, trying to play my cards right. his grey eyes danced from both of mine, his intimidating stare not leaving my face. i smiled, and slowly placed a hand on his arm.

his gaze only dropped once to follow where my fingers now softly lay on his bicep, then back to my face as i said, “actually, i’ll let you remember yourself. that way, you can think about me all night.“

with prolonged eye contact as i walked past him, i let my head stay turned just for a short moment before turning back and walking past the onlooker that was blaise, past the end of the bookshelves and sauntering out of the library. i smiled to myself in a job well done, excitement stretching at my lips as i also noted the perfume i’d purposely sprayed before coming here. something sultry, something pure, something unforgettable.

back in the aisle i’d left him, blaise came to stand by his friend who was still staring off in the direction the girl had gone. he clapped him on the back, “nice going, mate. d’you seriously forget the dove girl from transfiguration?”

draco shooed his friend’s hand away, then shot him a millionaire’s smile. a glint shone in his eyes, one that was too familiar of a look to blaise. “you should know me better, blaise.” his smile was like a predator’s expression before he met his prey. a beast.

“i’d never forget a face like that.”

-

the deep sound of an applause echoed out through the hall, their rapid movement fuelled by excitement rattling the delicate gold cutlery on the huge refectory tables. orange light glinted off of the goblets that stood tall next to plates and plates of banqueted food, the dinner in full swing as dumbledore stood and announced the beginning of a speech.

“good evening, students.” his eyes twinkled under the bright lights, a warmth to his voice that kept the growing winter away. “i will let you return to your meals in a moment. for now, i have some rather exciting news to update you all on.”

a low chatter spread through the hall, heads turning to their friends and whispering about what it might be about. i rolled my eyes - usually, the ‘exciting news’ was nothing more than a new teacher (again), or a festival of some sorts at hogsmeade where the sherbet lemons were half-off.

an arm nudged me from my side. i turned to see fred weasley, an expression on his face that was never serious enough to be anything less than a smile. “you could at least try to look excited.”

i huffed, “you could at least try to leave me alone, but you don’t.” i nudged him back, “you must annoy me instead.”

a chuckle came from beside fred before a head of equally red hair peered over, and put a pointer finger to his lips. george hushed us with anything but reprimand in his voice, “you two are ruining old dumbledore’s big speech. let the man speak.”

me and fred made eye contact, an incredulous glance exchanged between us before we quietly laughed, and turned to face the headmaster again.

i usually sat at my house table - the row of greens now looking much less exciting now that it was missing it’s favourite member - but on occasion i seated myself with friends of different houses. today, it just so happened to be the dear weasley twins.

dumbledore continued, “with the growth of winter upon us, and the ever-so anticipated yule season approaching with haste, the staff of hogwarts have agreed to host an event to celebrate such a time of joy.”

the voices grew, the excitement contagious and even creeping into my own chest. celebration, did he say? i couldn’t help but sit up straighter as i waited for him to elaborate.

“yes, yes. i’m sure a few of you have guessed already. for the first time in a decade, we are delighted to announce that this year, hogwarts will be hosting a yule hall!” his hands spread out as the students suddenly cheered and applauded, hoots and laughter spreading like wildfire at the news. usually, the school just celebrated christmas with exams and a measly two week holiday - i couldn’t help but turn to grin at the twins as i already started mentally planning my dressing options.

the teachers behind dumbledore smiled amongst themselves - well, all except snape - before the headmaster held his hands up for a bit of quiet. “now, let me to introduce a few standard procedures to help you all familiarise yourself with the process.”

i internally groaned, slumping back down to stare at my chicken. who needs rules for a ball? you dress up, go with the girls (except the ones who betray the group and go with their dates) and dance the night away!

a figure seating himself beside me pulled my attention back from my own thoughts. i looked over to the newcomer who leaned on the table, arms crossed and a slight smirk on his face. i breathed out a laugh, “you know, you shouldn’t really be here.” i glanced down the table, already seeing some strange looks sent our way. “the gryffindors don’t really like you.”

draco laughed, a deep sound that reminded me why the girls all loved him. “then it’s a good thing i don’t care what they think. besides, i’m not here for them. i’m here for you.”

i made sure to lean just the slightest bit closer as i teased, “you were thinking about me?”

draco tilted his head down to look at me, his smile dancing behind his eyes as he said, “all night, just like you asked.” he tore his gaze from my eyes to pour himself some water, holding the golden goblet between his long fingers in a way that made the cup look like treasure. “i was thinking about your proposition.”

i crossed my brows, “my proposition?”

“in the library. and you’re right - i’ve helped you, now i’d like you to make it up to me.”

i laughed, keeping the sound feminine and casual. thank goodness i’d spritzed some perfume before coming to dinner - perhaps that was why draco was sat so close to me today. or, i reminded myself, perhaps he’s just allergic to distancing himself from girls.

“what did you have in mind, draco?”

he took a sip of water, his eyes on mine the entire time. his jaw tilted in a way that accentuated the sharp lines, my eyes now fighting to keep from staring. if i wanted him around my finger, i couldn’t be too eager. there was nothing attractive about that - not to a guy like draco, anyway. he enjoyed the chase. he loved the effort that he put it. to him, wooing girls was like an art - one that he excelled at every time. but just this time, it would end in my success instead.

he lowered the goblet, and swirled it around in his hand like fine wine. “go to the ball with me.”

i fought the grin from illuminating my lips, loving how the sudden surprise felt. how the attention felt. i mean, dumbledore had literally this second just announced the ball. and…we really had only just met. was he this quick with all his past conquests? i bit down on the excitement of the haste, reminding myself that the feeling was just because the plan was going well, and not at this player’s antics.

“i can’t.”

his swirling paused, his smile faltering. draco turned to look at me, no doubt suspecting this was a joke of some sorts. “what?”

this time, i really couldn’t help the smile. i turned it into a look of sheepish innocence, if only to hide the real pleasure i got from rejecting draco malfoy this early. but the plan i had for him was a long one, and i couldn’t just agree to go out with him this quickly. i had to play my cards right - i needed to make him obsessed with me, not just interested in me like a dog would be with a new toy.

“i’m sorry, someone’s already asked me.”

draco breathed out a chuckle, setting his goblet down. “oh, yeah? that’s funny, considering the ball has only just been announced.”

i shrugged, “what can i say? it seems you’re not the only one interested, draco.”

contrary to what was happening, his smirk only grew. he kept that intense eye contact before he slowly responded, “no, it seems i’m not. who is the lucky guy, then?”

i froze. i hadn’t thought that far ahead. should i just make someone up? name someone off the top of my head? maybe i should steal daphne’s boyfriend for the night?

thankfully, it appeared the gods had been listening in and wanted draco done just as much as i did. just as i struggled for an answer, two voices from behind me echoed out, “me.”

i turned slowly to face the weasley twins, feeling draco’s eyes also follow along. fred and george might not have looked like it, but they had been listening in on the conversation. whether or not they caught on to what i was doing, it looks like both had offered up to cover for me anyway. i subtly scrunched my face up in cringe, wondering how this might have looked to draco.

george laughed, “only joking. she’s going with fred.”

i stifled a laugh and a sigh of relief, making eye contact with george in a way that expressed they knew exactly what i was up to.

of course.

i turned back to draco, feeling fred’s arm drape over my shoulders simultaneously. thank god i’d chosen to sit here today, and thank god for the weasley twins. his eyes looked much less amused now, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he surveyed the situation.

“sorry, draco. i promised.”

fred nodded, leaning forward to rest his head on my shoulder just to subtly rub it in more. “a promise is a promise.” he said, amusement dancing in his tone.

draco chuckled once, then ran his hands through his light hair. “fair game, weasley.”

i felt the warmth of fred’s arm leave as he pulled back, going back to whatever he was doing before he came to my rescue. draco made to leave, straightening from the bench. just before he rose, he casually ducked his head close to my ear and whispered a low, quiet departure.

“i’ll see you at the ball, Y/N. save me a dance?”

the innocent words against my hair sent electricity down my back, the question curling itself around my spine until i had to suppress a shiver.

i nodded, pressing my lips together to keep from exposing the effect his actions had on me. he pulled back slowly, smirked, and pushed the goblet towards me.

once he left to return to the slytherin table, i felt his absence like an all too hollow empty space. i glanced over to the goblet he’d left, now a dark red liquid swirling inside. i crossed my eyebrows, picking it up by the thin stem and tilting it so that the light reflected off of it.

somehow, at some point, draco had turned the plain water into wine. i laughed under my breath. if there was any spell suited for a rich boy like him to learn, it would be this one.

something soft hitting my head took my attention away from the wine, a quiet sound humming by my ear as something landed on the table beside me. i looked down to find a small paper bird folded neatly beside my makeshift wine before gently taking it in my hands and listening to its soft tweet that was dimmed by the roaring conversations of the hall. i didn’t need to check who’d sent the charmed thing, mentally cackling to myself at draco’s smitten-ness before unravelling it.

a simple note lay in cursive on the white parchment now crumpled with the folding of the origami bird:

‘i’ll be waiting for that dance. a promise is a promise’.

ignoring the foreign flutter of my heart that matched the prior pace of the wings, i smiled. my chest only felt lighter because i knew the plan was working. my head only felt airy because this massive hall was getting roused with excited students.

i folded the note back up into a small square, and tucked it safely in my pocket. a memoire, if you will. something i can add to my notebook as proof once i check off the second box - ‘make him chase you.’

-

“concentrate, longbottom! you’re turning vinegar into wine, not into a mess for me to clean up!” flitwick scolded the boy who flushed bright red, his frustrated, aggressive wand flinging now withdrawn into much calmer movements.

i laughed under my breath at his sad attempts at the spell. granted, it was quite an advanced spell. turning vinegar into wine was something even hermione hadn’t accomplished yet - and, as i repeated the spell exactly and mimicked the movements just like the professor showed, i couldn’t help but grow frustrated at the lack of success - especially as my thoughts drifted back to the goblet of wine at the dinner a few days ago. i huffed. there was advanced, and then there was just plain impossible. how had a boy like draco manage to do this? i mean, he spends all his time chasing after women…

“i can’t do this.”

daphne made a sound in agreement, her own wand movements stiff as she refrained from swearing at another failed attempt. when she finished the next try, the white liquid stared right back as if taunting us at our failure. she groaned, then whacked the end of her wand against the desk as if that would help move things along. i laughed as i dropped into my seat, giving up after half an hour of trying.

“that’s not the right attitude, girls.”

daphne stopped her tantrum as we both turned our heads back, professor flitwick now stood behind our desk with pursed lips and a faint smile. “if we can’t perform a spell, what should we do?” he asked.

daphne plonked herself onto her seat too, crossing her arms as we both monotonously responded, “ask for help.”

his hands clapped together in approval. “brilliant! now, would you like assistance with your charm, miss greengrass?”

she nodded fiercely, gripping the wand with a newfound vigour as the professor rounded to stand by her side.

i pursed my lips and nodded to myself. that’s just great. thanks for all the help, professor. i sighed, “um, i actually don’t know how to do this either, professor.”

flitwick peered over daphne’s shoulder, taking one glance at my glass that was still swirling with white liquid. “ah. yes, right. hmmm…oh yes, mr malfoy!”

our heads simultaneously turned to the boy seated at the desk next to ours, his own blank stare meeting the teacher’s. his eyebrows raised in questioning. “would you be so kind as to help miss Y/L/N with her spell, seeing as you’ve already appeared to have mastered yours?”

any other time, i might’ve scoffed and told flitwick i could just figure it out myself, especially as this was how most girls ended up in trouble - partnered with draco malfoy, a damsel in distress who’s struggling in class. however…

i watched as his grey eyes flickered to mine, as if actually noticing for the first time that our desks were next to each other in charms class. my urge to scoff was stuck in my throat as his lips cocked up in a slow smirk, then he replied in his prefect voice, “certainly, professor.”

although it was our teacher he addressed, his eyes never left mine. he had a habit of doing that, i’d notified.

his chair was pushed back, then he grabbed the back of it like the wooden thing was weightless and pushed it backwards to the edge of my desk. with ease, he sat himself so that his legs were draped around the back of the chair, his arms now folded casually across the top of the back. i noted how his tie was pulled loose beneath his robes so that his top collar button could be undone. now, if i were anyone else, perhaps i could have admitted that the whole messy-boyish look on him really was quite attractive. besides, since i was saving the fate of all future girls and putting my own dignity on the line for it, at least i could allow myself to enjoy the view every once in a while.

“it seems i’m helping you a lot recently, dovey.”

and maybe enjoy the sweet nicknames, too. at least he remembered this time.

i smiled, “it seems that way. lucky you?”

draco chuckled, “lucky me.”

there was a pause as i stifled my smile from spreading. there was something fascinating about seeing this player in action - the charming words that seemed to drip off of his tongue, the cool breeze of cologne that seemed to waft around at his every movement. i knew it was all a facade, and definitely something half the female population had seen before, but i couldn’t help acknowledging that…well, to put it blatantly, if i were non-the-wiser then all this ‘charm’ would’ve simply added me to his list of exes.

regardless, two could play at that game. i washed a look of innocence over me, channeling the role of damsel in distress, and picked up my wand. “i just can’t seem to get this right, no matter how hard i try.”

“try it again, let me see how you’re doing it.”

truth be told, i wasn’t faking it this time just to get his help, like with the dove and feather. this genuinely was an advanced spell, one that i just couldn’t figure out how he’d managed to do. i mean, just glancing over to where granger sat with her red-headed friend could tell you enough if even she couldn’t do it yet.

i pointed my wand at the glass, focusing on the oily sheen to the white vinegar. i spoke the charm, a small fizz of magic glittering at the top of my wand as i swished the wand up, twirled it clockwise and then flicked.

no avail.

the glass remained unchanged, and i felt my shoulders slump back. “see? i just don’t see what i’m doing wrong.” then, at the remembrance that the boy i was supposed to make fall in love was me was right beside me and probably watching my every move, i quickly straightened again.

luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. instead, draco made a face that still seemed too close to a cocky smirk to be kind. “yeah, i see. it’s because you’re focusing on the actual vinegar, aren’t you?”

i furrowed my eyebrows, tucking my lip between my teeth. the movement was unintentional, but it still distracted him from holding eye contact as his eyes dropped momentarily. satisfaction curled in my chest. “of course i am. should i be focusing on something else? what, the glass?”

he chuckled, “no.” with a swift movement, he brought his chair to the side of me, now sat close enough that i couldn’t tell where his robes ended and mine started. “you need to focus on what you’re turning it into; the wine. don’t look at the vinegar as vinegar, look at it as something before the wine, yeah?”

my focus drifted to the glass as i let his words sink in. slowly, i nodded. “that makes sense. okay, let me try.”

my wand lifted once more, pointing at the glass. i ignored the vinegar, instead imagining a deep burgundy liquid swirled in its place. i thought of its sweet smell, it’s familiar taste, and let my wand lift, twirl clockwise, then flick.

from the centre of the cup i noticed a swirl that looked like smoke emerge, a blood-red drifting into consciousness in the midst of white liquid. my eyes widened as the vinegar thought about turning red, and then felt them droop as the colour poofed away as quick as it had appeared.

“now what am i doing wrong?”

a deep laugh from the side of me snapped me out of my moody pouting, offering draco a slightly embarrassed smile as i tried to cover up the sulkiness. it was different when i wasn’t just pretending to be dumb; it was rare that i couldn’t perfect something in class, and to not be able to do something frustrated me to no end. perhaps all that procrastination really was taking a toll on me. i scowled internally - actually, perhaps all those interruptions from girls crying in the library every exam season had taken a toll on me. damn you, draco malfoy.

with a newfound determination to both get this spell right and get this boy to where i wanted him, i let my eyes twinkle and leaned closer. “could you show me how you do it, draco?”

the boy seemed pleased at my sudden closeness - in fact, so pleased that it seemed he started to dip his head towards mine. a smirk stretched on his lips and, with a slow and excruciating pace that sent a spike of panic through me, he lowered his head closer. my pulse started to quicken, the thumping of it meeting the cold wood of the table against my wrist. my eyes widened, and just when i thought about how to stop this before it went any further (after all, i can’t have something like this happening so soon if i was to make him work for it), he grinned, and stopped where he was.

“even better,” he said, “i’ll guide you myself.”

he made the simple words sound…different. distorted from their true meaning. sinful, almost. so much so that i quickly swivelled my head to see if the professor or daphne had heard, but thankfully they were still busy discussing the ‘art’ of vinegar or something.

i felt my cheeks heat slightly, a response that i hadn’t planned for as he casually shifted to get even closer. it was only because he was falling into my hands, just like i wanted to. just like i’d planned. i was in control here, not him.

i repeated it like a mantra as his arm then slid around my shoulders, fingers curling around my wrist that held the wand. i could hardly fathom what was happening.

okay, so it wasn’t something incredible, nor was it anything particularly crazy. it wasn’t even inappropriate enough that my paranoia of doing such actions in public were warranted, but something about his proximity and rich scent that grew stronger by the second had me flushed. i wanted to shake it off - the feeling, and his touch. i wanted to distance myself from the boy who was all too confident when it came to how to move, how to talk, how to make girls feel, because even though i was aiming to get him involved with me enough to break him (and break him hard), i wasn’t prepared to actually feel so flustered from his actions.

but i couldn’t do any of that. i couldn’t shake off his sure, confident guidance because this was all part of the plan.

so i took a deep breath in, pushed down the fluttering in my chest, and breathed out. what girl wouldn’t be affected by such close a proximity to a boy, anyway? it’s not like i was in love with him or anything.

i smiled to myself. i was right.

his arm lifted and guided my wrist movements, fingers like ice around my warm skin. the movements were slow, and i almost jumped when he uttered the spell quietly as we performed the gesture with my wand. i didn’t realise how close his lips were to my ear, just beside my hair, just cracking down my sanity.

he seemed to have a habit of that, too, i duly noted.

i wanted to shrink in the chair, and it seemed draco could somehow sense my reaction without even seeing my face, judging by how i could see him smirk out of my peripheral vision. i grumbled mentally, infuriated at his antics. i would not succumb to such an easy gesture, even if it did aid my mission.

although, just before i could pull away and assure him i could try it again myself, i was distracted by a deep, purer crimson blooming straight from the bottom of the glass. it consumed the liquid until it dyed the entirety of its contents a strong red, now dark enough to be much less translucent. i leaned forward, picking the glass up by its stem and swirling it under my nose for a second. the bittersweet scent of a calm, fruity wine greeted my senses, and suddenly i was elated.

i forgot all about the cocky player beside me and nearly jumped in my seat in excitement. “i can’t believe i did it!” this was NEWT level magic, the fact that i could accomplish it first lesson really meant that i -

actually…i realised with a slight drop of my stomach that what it really meant was that draco was a good teacher. and an even better wizard. and, worst of all, an excellent charmer. literally.

i turned my head to see his figure leant back against the chair, his hands slumped into his pockets as he smirked at my excited reaction. i breathed out a laugh, “sorry, i’m just excited that i actually managed to do that.”

he shrugged, his eyes seeming to study my face with more concentration than he showed with his magic. there was something different about his expression in that moment, something deeper that i couldn’t pinpoint. it looked almost foreign on him, like he himself was trying to figure something out.

i continued, trying to ignore the intensity of his stare. “no, really. it’s silly to get so excited, seeing as you knew this spell before class even started.”

when i turned back to draco, that strange look in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by one more of amusement than curiosity. when he slowly started to rise from his seat, he smirked before replying, “nah. it’s cute.”

i was left alone as he went to return to his seat, my lips parted slightly as his words dissolved straight into my chest.

ignoring the sudden fluttering of my stomach, i lowered my head and bit down a grin. we were just past the phase of getting him to at least remember my name, and now we’d already progressed to where he’s actively trying to flirt with me. as long as i played my cards right, this should play out with him getting more and more involved over the next few months, until eventually…he’s stuck. and when that happens - when the long journey is over and the plan rolls out neatly like a grand red carpet, i’ll be right there ready to finish it off with a final check of the box.

‘break him.’

when i brought my head back up, a clearing of my throat to help the giddiness leave my face, it was daphne’s eyes that i met. with a raise of her eyebrows and a nod to my red glass, i couldn’t help but grin back at her. my expression said it all.

‘i’m winning, daph.’

and when she sighed, rolled her eyes and nodded, it was clear the warning that lay behind her wordless reply.

‘just be careful.’

-

tags -

@wawuwe @marjorieisreading @sincerely-aaronette @canadianmilkbag @prettylittlehiddles @my-beloved-fandoms @m00nie-m00 @redcoatgirl @vanillaarr @charlenasaxen @fandom-brainrots @shartnart1 @avhfvhhfdhn

[hellohellook]

DM. PLAYING THE PLAYER

series - THE PROLOGUE

TEASER

PROLOGUE, I, II, III, IV

because if you want something done, you have to do it yourself.

I slammed the hardcover book shut. dust flew into the air, my sharp sigh blowing it back outwards, yet no one seemed to notice the ball of fury seated at the desk. I closed my eyes momentarily, repeating to myself the mantra that had followed me for years now.

just don't listen. it's not important. it's not real. it's merely background noise.

a jagged, high pitched cry interrupted my thoughts, and i clenched my jaw. I opened my eyes and turned my head, narrowing my eyes at the bookshelf to my right. more specifically, to the gap in between the shelves, where a group of girls gathered by the dusty history section.

no mantra on earth would get me through it this time. no, because my blasted theory of charms exam was in a week, and so far the only words of the textbook that had sunken into my head were the title, 'introduction to charms', and the page number.

I grabbed the book and stood, letting the chair legs scrape against the polished floor and echo in a clutter through the air. not that anyone would say anything, as it seemed the students in this bloody school didn't mind obnoxious noises. I let out a sharp exhale, and i clenched my fingers around the spine of the textbook as I turned and made my way to the gaggle of students.

I stood at the end of the bookshelf, glaring daggers at the group in the middle. they huddled in a circle around the main culprit in the centre, a girl who hunched over her hands and sobbed into them. a ravenclaw, I duly noted. the crying girl gasped out phrases in between choking sounds, something along the lines of “i thought he was different,” and “i thought it was forever.”

I rolled my eyes. and i thought ravenclaws were smarter than this.

one of the girl’s friends spotted me by the end of the bookshelf and tapped the others to get their attention. she nodded her head in gesture towards me, drawing the group’s gaze with furrowed brows. the one crying herself swivelled her head slowly to look at me.

"do you know what time it is?"

they furrowed their brows in unison, and it was one of the crying girl's friends that responded. "what?" she checked her wrist, only to stare at a patch of blank skin before huffing that she must've forgot her watch. "it's probably around seven?"

I shook my head. "no, I mean do you know what time of year it is?" when the girl wrinkled her nose at my question, I continued. "its exam season. I've been trying to study for the past hour at that damn desk all the way over there," I jabbed my thumb in the direction i'd come from, "and I can't find myself concentrating even the slightest bit because of all this noise."

the friend of the girl took a step forward, and I noted the red tinge on her robes as she raised her head in a confrontational gesture. ah. only gryffindors were as brave as they were stupid. "listen, you can't talk to us like that. you don't know what our friend is going through right now."

the others nodded, some patting the shoulder of the girl with swollen eyes. said girl actually spoke too, adding on in a hoarse voice, "you're being so insensitive - this type of pain is unimaginable. I don't expect someone like you to understand."

she eyed my robes in disdain, picking on the crisp green that decorated the uniform. I fought an urge to roll my eyes. what a pitiful dig. all I wanted to do was study for my blasted exams for a couple of hours in a quiet atmosphere, was that so bad?

actually, all I really wanted to do was lob my textbook at their big, obnoxious heads. in fact, I wouldn't mind aiming a few at the guy who I knew was behind all of this to begin with.

my fingers itched.

“i’m sure i don’t. could hardly imagine. listen - ”

“you're right - you never could. this type of pain only happens once in your life.”

I was really clenching my teeth at this point.

perhaps the consequences for a few unconscious students wouldn’t be too bad. anything was worth the peace and quiet, was it not?

i took a shaky breath, “yeah. sure. but this once-in-a-lifetime-type pain could be experienced somewhere else, don’t you think? besides, the library is usually supposed to be…you know…”

the girls stared back, as if they had no idea what i was referring to. as if the library were the common rooms for heartbroken girls to gather around with their friends and disrupt any other students trying to study. as if I were the strange one.

I finished off, nearing exasperation at this point, “quiet.”

foolishly, I had expected something along the lines of sheepish grins, attempts to make their way out of the library and a few muttered apologies of sorts. in hindsight, a kiss from the old dark lord would've been more likely.

suddenly, I watched in dread as the girl with the swollen eyes started to slowly tremble. I felt my arms go lack at my sides as she tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and then scrunched her face up in a bawl, and straightened awkwardly as a wail left her mouth and her friends all started cawing in response - no consideration at all for the laws of the library. I exhaled in surrender.

after all that, it ended up being me storming out of the place, textbook shoved in my bag and doors flinging open behind me.

and to think, the librarian had the nerve to glare and shush me for the echoed bang it left.

-

I couldn't believe my luck. I stormed down the corridors of hogwarts, feeling the corners get colder and watching the stone get darker as I mentally raged about my situation.

it was a regular occurrence, all these interruptions. I knew exactly who it was that caused the trail of crying girls, mourning over a relationship that was never really meant to last to begin with. every six months a new one showed up, thinking she was different to the last. and each time, it ended the same way. perhaps, I thought, they really just forgot about his reputation as soon as those grey eyes landed upon them. it was madness. every half-year, a pattern that occurred without fail, it was the same story; they found themselves sobbing in the bathrooms, in the middle of the lunch hall, they even seemed to have migrated to the library now.

perhaps I wouldn't have minded so much. I could've easily just avoided public areas during the time of havoc, but there was something else that occurred every sixth months.

exams.

and now, the stakes weren't just 'risk a bad grade and make up for it next year'. now, we were moving onto our OWLs. these exams would determine if I could progress into the next year, if I could choose the subjects I wanted to study. my stomach curled. I needed to get some studying down, asap.

perhaps he did it on purpose. perhaps he knew that i only studied at the very last minute, and purposely sent these crying minions to sabotage me and the rest of the student population, because at least it didn't bother him.

I scoffed to myself as I reached the entrance to the bathrooms, palm pressed flat against the cold wood, pushing the thick and heavy doors open.

and I froze.

with a spider-like chill up my spine, I stopped in the doorframe and felt my knees weaken. had they...followed me?

or...had the culprit stuck twice?

I pushed open the door fully, and met a group of heads that snapped up at the sound. wide eyes stared back at me, deers in a headlight. a girl in the centre had red eyes and blotched cheeks, and I just about caught sight of a piece of parchment crushed in her hand.

a letter.

the infamous break-up letter. the fate that fell to all girls who got involved with him.

one hand rested against the door, the other slack at my side. I didn't even wait for the awkward silence to fall, nor did I wait for their apologies for taking up the girls bathrooms - although, by the looks on their faces, it looked like they almost expected me to apologise for walking in on their crying session.

I stormed back down the hallways, jaw almost slack in disbelief and eyebrows furrowed hard enough to crease my forehead. just like every half-annum, I was frowning and sighing and huffing around the corridors at the typical disruptions around exam season, a routine that would catch up to me in few years and etch wrinkles onto my face. however, unlike like every half-annum, this time there were two.

it was all his fault. I loathed such horrid types of people. people who used, who cheated, who disposed of others like they were recyclables. those who didn't realise that some of us were severe procrastinators, and didn't study until the exams were a week away - just the same time that he had decided his new playtoy was boring him, and happened to dump her via letter.

I reached the parts of hogwarts where the corridors were shorter and the stones grew black, a welcoming draft floating in through the depths of the dungeons. along the hallway of portraits and paintings, I scowled at the particularly large picture of a woman at a desk, feather quill in hand and book at the open. a single candle stood beside her, her atmosphere in solitude and peace. must be nice.

I prayed to any gods that listened as I neared the large carving of black in the wall, hoping that the common rooms would be quiet enough to get at least an ounce of revision in.

it was my fault, really. I shouldn't have procrastinated every year before a series of exams. I don't know why I did it - perhaps it was the sense of relief I got from always managing to scrape a good grade that reinforced the faulty behaviour.

regardless, as I mumbled the password and pushed open the heavy doors to the common rooms, I couldn't help but curse the devil that roamed the halls and left a trail of wailing girls in his path. it was his fault that my procrastination plans were failing me.

warm candlelight brushed my face with welcoming hands as I stepped into the main area, a gentle glow of orange flurrying the quiet room and turning the large emerald lounges a near gold. silver decorated the shelves in huge trophies and medals, with hidden bottles of god-knows-what amongst them. I breathed in the scent of fresh velvet and crackling embers, the undertones of the richest colognes and perfumes tickling my nose in familiarity.

this was perfect. although a few people dotted around the place in lively yet seemingly whispered conversations, it was quiet enough that I could get some prep work done. I breathed out, and tilted my neck side to side to stretch out the tension that had accumulated there for the past hour or so.

I made my way to the only spare space left on the lounge, planning on throwing my things on the chair and sit on the softest of green furred carpets underneath it, using the huge table in the centre of the c-shaped sofas as a desk. my steps were swallowed by the thick carpet as I made my way over, an extra spring in my slow approach. I'd escaped him, once again. this was another day during his heartbreak series' that I had managed to avoid the cries and ignore his smug expression that invaded the halls.

I was steps from the perfect space when another couple rounded the back and came to sit themselves there instead. I stopped, surprised that I'd missed the presence of someone else, and even more surprised that they were so spatially unaware that they'd stolen my bloody spot! I clenched my jaw, and glared at the tall figure who lazily rested against the high armrest, pulling his lady companion closer by the waist as he whispered against her dark hair. I couldn't see their faces, but I noticed the girl pulling back enough just to giggle at whatever he'd said to her. and when she did so, I caught sight of the boy.

I saw the hooded eyes, cooly slanted in a way that expressed a sly grin without his lips even moving. his messy fringe tickled just the top of his eyes, long fingers now sliding all the way around her back.

the chiseled features. the long legs. the confidence oozing from him.

my breath stopped short, and I couldn't believe my luck.

there he was - the evil of hogwarts. and, even worse than the fact that he was moving onto his next victim as soon as I just saw the last two around the school, he'd now stolen the last place in the building that I could find peace and quiet in.

I stormed over before I could even stop myself, before I could even think of what to say. the anger and frustration took care of the latter problem for me, words rolling off of my tongue before a conscious thought process could catch up.

"you're in my spot."

draco malfoy took his sweet time prying his eyes from his next target, his smile slowly disappearing as he returned my stare. his hands didn't move. when the girl also turned her head over her shoulder to look at me with annoyance, I noticed his eyebrow cock up in...something. curiosity, perhaps. all I knew was that I was staring right back at him, my own emotions obvious and clear.

his head tilted slightly, "what?"

I breathed out of my nostrils, already in a state of regret from coming over. no less, I was not backing down. it had been one too many times that he'd made an enemy of me. "I said, you're in my spot."

his hold around the girl loosened, his head that had been angled to look up at her now wavering, looking straight back at me. the girl huffed quietly, turning to also fully face me while pushing herself back into draco. absentmindedly, his hand lingered on the side of her waist, as if just used to having a girl by his side but was not really interested in her at all. I had to say, how these people fell for him, I would never understand. how could they ever interpret his wandering hands and twinkling eyes as genuine affection?

and, judging by the fact that he now directed that charming, idle look my way, it seemed he'd already forgotten about the girl literally on his arm.

"and you're interrupting us. can't you see we're in the middle of something?"

I flickered my eyes to the girl for the first time since approaching them, furrowing my eyebrows at her reply. did she really think she was in the middle of something that 99.9% of the girls here hadn't already experienced? I opened my mouth to respond, but was soon shut up by a smooth voice in front of me.

"she's not interrupting. and do you know what, I have some charms assignments of my own to complete." I glanced back to cool, grey eyes, ones that hadn't left my face since I'd spoken. his gaze was making me unnerved, and I couldn't tell how he even knew about my unfinished charms revision.

as if he could read my question, his eyes flickered to the bag by my side with a look of faint amusement behind his expression. I followed his eye-line to see the textbook I'd been using in the library peeking over the edge, the light blue edges dancing under the fireplace shadows.

hm. how attentive of him. it seemed in the brief few seconds of our first meeting, he'd already scanned me head to toe and noted such small details already. i scoffed internally - what a pro.

I shook my head subtly, clearing such useless thoughts.

the girl spoke again, taking a slow step backwards from draco but not enough that his arm couldn't still reach around her waist. as if he had only just gained consciousness over his actions, that very same hand then dropped from her back and came to slide casually in his pocket. "what are you saying, dray? you want me to leave?"

he shrugged, eyes back on me. I folded my arms like a defensive barrier, nonchalantly fixing my robes while waiting for the spot to clear. I just wanted to get some work done. I didn't want couples stealing the last good seat available, I didn't want the heartbroken girls in the way, and most of all I didn't want the heartbreaker himself staring right at me. his eyes changed colours with the way the fire reflected against it, one moment silver, the other a dark black. even from where I stood, I could tell how dilated his pupils were. he must've been on some herbs, I dismissed mentally.

"yeah," he said, short, curt, final. "I do."

-

I flopped onto the bed beside daphne, and groaned out loud. "I'm gonna kill him."

she turned the page of her book slowly, not even bothering to look up at my announcement. she hummed, "on with it, then."

I turned onto my elbows, leaning on my stomach as I faced her. a light rain trickled against the window panels, my own bed a few feet away now washed in moonlight with a pile of parchment messily discarded atop of it, charms textbook at the bottom of the dump. "maybe I'll move schools."

a laugh came from her, "then you'd be leaving me to suffer here alone. would you really do that to me?" thick brown hair framed her reading glasses as she wrote brief notes at the side of her novel, quill dyed pink at the feathers. she's right, I wouldn't leave my best friend to endure the hardships of hogwarts alone - fuckboys and all. I shoved my face into her duvet and muffled a shout of frustration, kicking my feet behind me as I tried to conjure a solution.

after draco had dismissed that girl a few hours ago, I'd watched in a foolish moment of fleeting hope as she disappeared with teary eyes, hoping that he would follow suit to go do said charms assignment, and leave me the hell alone.

instead, the bastard had stayed.

I thought of the way he'd slid down next to me on the carpet, the way he'd leaned in a little too close when I opened my charms book and started asking me questions about how far I'd gotten in revision. snarky bastard - I assume he didn't even know we were in the same class. I thought about how he rested an arm against his propped up knee, then used his other hand to run through his hair. I thought about how his leg kept bumping against mine as my quill scribbled against the scratchy parchment, and shivered at the memory of that warmth. I remembered shoving all my belongings into my bag soon after, and I remember feeling the burn of his eyes as I stormed away without another word. i was not giving him any sign that i was into him and his attempts at flirting.

I hated him. I hated the confusion he emitted at the fact that I wasn't infatuated and grateful to be at the end of his attention. I hated the confidence from every long finger to his lazy postures.

the wailing of cries and heartbreak echoed in my ears, and I scrunched my eyes closed, hard.

I hated him.

I needed it to end. i may not have been the most dedicated student, but the fact that I didn't even have the chance to study well was making me want it even more. I needed him gone. and yet it seemed the only way for that to happen...

I slowly rose. I lifted my face from daphne's pink duvet, my hair stuck to the sides of my face as an epiphany floated atop of my head.

I heard the shuffling of daphne as she lifted her head from her book, her eyes now studying me attentively at my sudden quietness.

my words whispered into silence, speaking the sentence for no one but myself. "I'm gonna end it."

when I noticed daphne's head tilt slightly to the side, I looked up at her. her eyes were narrowed, trying to figure me out, then they widened. I grinned, a maniac threatening to break out behind such a smile. "Y/N, what are you thinking?"

I grabbed her hands, the sweet, distant taste of hope simmering on my tongue. "I'm gonna end this routine, daphne. I'm gonna break this chain of disruptions to my studies." I bounced up from her bed, now dancing across to my side of the dorm while her eyes cautiously followed in amusement.

I scrambled through the messy pile, already compiling ideas in my head and formulating a rough plan. this was it. to finish it all, to finally earn some peace for the upcoming long years of school - if I want anything done, I had to do it myself.

I curled my hands around the piece of parchment that was gonna slot the first piece of the puzzle into action, clenching my jaw as I thought back to dancing grey eyes and purposeful-accidental touches.

"i'm gonna break him."

-

AN: hey loves. hope you enjoyed the prologue! it's taken me feb 17th - apr 12th to finish just this SOOO I'm crazy busy w school but I will try my best. kisses to allllll you purdy babies! let me know what you thought😫

@redcoatgirl @vanillaarr @charlenasaxen @fandom-brainrots @shartnart1

[hellohellook]

DM. PLAYING THE PLAYER TEASER

series

PROLOGUE <- read here

DRACO loves girls. he loves their attention, loves their loyalty, and loves, more than anything, moving on to the next.

GIRLS love Draco. they love his attention, love his gentle words and soft touches, but hate, more than anything, being the ones left behind.

SHE hates them both. she’s tired of the disruptions to her studies, the trail of crying girls disturbing her nightly revision sessions. she’s ready to stop it. she’s going to break the chain - SHE’S GOING TO BREAK THE PLAYER.

[hellohellook]

DM. ABSOLUTELY AWFUL

one shot - fluff

oh I TOTALLY forgot about this but it’s an old fic (like, from when I first started out), but here’s a little something to keep the edge off while I slowly but surely write something proper to post🫶

“are you just good at absolutely everything, draco?” i glared up at his stupid smirking face, hating the amused glint in his eyes.

he crossed his arms, looming over me. “perhaps.”

his cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, his hair messy for once as opposed to his usual - perfectly gelled. it was actually my awful idea to go ice skating, and it just so happened a rink had been opened outside hogsmeade; out in the open, only few people and families currently skating around and all laughing amongst themselves. the ice glittered under the moonlight, but perhaps that in itself was another enchantment.

it appeared that i was the only one who couldn’t seem to grasp the balance between the thin blades and the ice, and now here i was - on my arse, flopped over on the ice like an uncentered penguin.

he reached his hand out, “come on. i’ll help you, i guess.”

i rolled my eyes but took his hand anyway, “yeah, any chance to show off, right?”

his eyes narrowed playfully at my remark before he suddenly let go of my hand, leaving me to stumble and almost topple over again. he caught me last minute and stabled me upright to help meet him eye level, grinning stupidly at how dependant i currently was on him (against my own will to not be as embarrassingly bad as I was at this).

“if by that you mean showing off my clumsy mess of a girlfriend, sure.”

i narrowed my eyes as i tried to be subtle about balancing against the ice without leaning all my weight onto him, although my fingers remained clenched around his in poorly suppressed fear, “you’ll have a none existent girlfriend by the end of tonight if you don’t shut up.”

despite my threats, tonight would be perhaps the worst type of night to break up - especially with the way that the night was dark enough to reveal all the secrets inside, constellations dancing and watching us below. all the bright patterns of stars winked at the skaters, seemingly gleaming in humour as they watched me try and fail to glide along. a cool breeze would echo across very rarely, but still enough to leave behind rouge on everyone’s cheeks and noses.

draco looked particularly magnificent, but i’d never admit that to the prat. not since he’s been laughing continuously all night, only just now deciding to offer help, even as my backside had made contact with the ice perhaps a dozen times now.

his hands outstretched separately, taking mine in each one. his fingers were hidden by black gloves - the softest of soft material, courtesy of the malfoys’ riches. i was somewhat disappointed to not be a witness to those hands, the ones that i loved so much with the beautiful rings and each small detail etched on them, but i appreciated the warmth and comfort they offered right now.

“come on, darling. just relax,”

i listened halfheartedly, trying to follow along steadily as he glided backwards at a slow, slow pace. i was looking at the ground and our ice skates, biting a lip to concentrate harder.

after what felt like a good round of the rink, i looked up at draco to see him already smiling at me. he grinned at my eye contact with soft, caring eyes, but contradicted the gentleness in his expression by teasing, “having fun? made quite the progress, i must say.”

my mouth parted slightly as i glanced around, seeing in immense despair that we’d only come a few metres from where i fell moments ago. a small groan fell from my lips and my hands came to throw up in the air out of habit. i caught my mistake a second too late, the ground suddenly falling from underneath me and almost completely throwing me off.

a quick slip of an arm came under my waist, catching me just in time. draco’s reflexes always seemed rapid when it came to me and my clumsiness; like in class when my equipment would roll of the table and he’d grab it just before it hit the ground, or in other houses’ quidditch matches when we’d both be in the audience and a rogue quaffle would threaten to collide with my face - that day, i’d opened my tightened eyes to see him clutching it with a smug grin. ‘trust me to always protect that pretty face,’ he’d said.

his face had moved to just before mine, an expression of shock displayed from my almost fall. it seemed his reflexes were simply a habit and not a conscious motion, the near accident causing as a surprise for the both of us.

his lips stretched into a smile and he released a cool breath in a relieved, amused sigh as i giggled back, “i’m sorry…i am trying, i promise,”

he pressed a kiss to my cheek and yanked me up, holding me so firmly that there was no chance of slipping now. he then pulled me so my head was nearly on his shoulder and his lips were perfectly lined next to my ear, and only i could hear every word he said as he whispered lowly, “how can i praise you when you’re just absolutely awful, my love?”

i felt heat rush to my cheeks, hating the subtle insinuations behind his words. “i’d shove you away if i wasn’t using you as my stand.”

he chuckled and returned to our previous position, continuing to slowly skate us along and giving small tips along the way.

minutes went by, but at last -

“that’s it, you’re getting the hang of it!”

i risked a quick laugh as i could finally match his quick paces, feeling a sense of balance come to me the more we skated round and round, him now going backwards so that he could lead me from in front.

eventually, he carefully let go of one of our joined hands. my eyes warily snapped up to him to which he just smiled reassuringly, coming to skate beside me instead of in front. we were still hand in hand as we continued, now me being much less dependant on him. he squeezed my hand in reminder that he was there, so i took a deep breath, and we went skating.

truly, we were skating around.

no interruptions from my falls, my nerves and my wobbles. i was laughing lightly as we travelled against the breeze, completely carefree in that moment.

that was, until draco turned his head and spoke casually into my ear, “i love you.”

he chose this moment to be the first time to ever say that? his words hardly registered as my mouth gaped open and my legs stopped working, all my limbs uniting together to forget what their jobs were.

the ice slipped away, the sky tilted and i was soon staring at the sky, still shocked and barely acknowledging the chill of the ice on my backside. draco’s face peered over, grinning so stupidly that i felt like jumping up and slapping him even more stupid.

despite prompted murderous intent, i felt an overwhelming smile reach my face before i noticed the hidden nervousness behind his eyes.

i sighed in mock tire as i tilted my head in sweetness. “i love you too, you prat.”

[hellohellook]

Do Not Disturb. (DM)

yeah, it’s from that tiktok trend. reader ravenclaw (not important)

Pansy let her hands hover over the wood, hesitating before she knocked. Was this a good idea? What if he was asleep? What if he wasn’t interested? What if she just came back tomorr-

No.

She was a Parkinson. She was pureblood, one of the richest at that. She wasn’t afraid of some silly boy. Even if that so-called silly boy was the definite die-for love of her life. She shook off her doubts, and let her knuckles lightly rap at the door.

She put her hands down, watching the candlelight flicker at the dark oak as she wrung her fingers in poorly suppressed nervousness. Why did it take this long to answer the door? Perhaps he was busy. Or asleep. She counted the number of knots in the door, a habit she’d acquired since he always took so long to answer. 7, just like always.

The wood was busy with swirls and twisted patterns, like a noisy crowd of flaws. On the other side of it, the room seemed silent. She was right. She should’ve just come back tomorr -

The clicking of the handle jumped her awake, startling her despite watching the door the whole time. She straightened, then desperately reminded herself to keep her composure. Keep cool. Keep calm.

The door slowly swung open, and there stood the most handsome boy she’d ever seen. As she smiled sweetly at Draco - perhaps sickly sweetly - she only just stopped herself from flinching as she took note of his messy hair and loosened collar. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and if his annoyed expression was anything to go by, she could take a good guess that he really had been sleeping. His one hand was on the door, keeping it half closed, and the other rested against the wall as if he was truly irritated at this interruption.

She swallowed her regret at this timing, pushed away her curses at herself, and called his name.

“I’m really struggling with this charms topic, Draco. I would so appreciate your help,” she lowered her head as to make her eyes appear bigger, looking up through her eyelashes, “if you’d be so kind as to offer it.”

Draco inhaled deeply, then quickly exhaled as his eyes briefly closed. His hand on the door moved, and she used all her effort to not look at the veins running down as he lowered it. Instead, she looked to what he pointed at with a raised eyebrow.

A tie hang itself on the door knob, neatly and purposely.

She looked to him, then back to the tie. Ah. Do not disturb.

She breathed out a laugh like this was a small issue, and ignored the squeezing in her throat. “Sorry, silly of me to assume you’d be awake at this time.”

He cocked his eyebrows once more as if to acknowledge her apology, and returned his hand to the door.

“But, you see, I just can’t get my head around this questi - ” and the door shut in her face, the tie swinging slightly as it clicked in place. Pansy let her lips remain parted, the unspoken words still hanging on her tongue.

When the next sound of a lock clicked out to her, she shut her mouth and huffed. What a day.

She turned and stalked her way back down the steps, a sulk in every movement.

Back behind the oaken door, Draco sighed at the interruption. Then, without letting the present go to waste for any longer, he looked to the side of the door where his other hand had rested. Or rather - where his hand was stifling your mouth, preventing you from making any sound that might’ve given the two of you away.

Your eyes were wide, hands clutched around his large one in nervousness, and he smirked down at you. “No need to worry, darling. She’s gone.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, the adrenaline of almost being caught - and now having that intense stare back on you - tripling your pulse. He leaned down, the scent of mint coming closer, the scent of expensive cologne grasping you by the neck once more.

Back on the other side, Pansy paused.

The tie on the door handle. She turned mid stairwell, looking back up to the dormitories. Why didn’t she notice? The tie wasn’t green.

Rather, it was a pretty shade of dark blue.

That wasn’t a slytherin’s tie.

If it wasn’t Draco’s…then who’s was it?