Chapter 6
Monday’s classes felt like a blur, but not in the usual boring lecture kind of way. No, this time, it was because Harry couldn’t focus on anything except the way Malfoy had touched him.
It was nothing. Barely a touch. A stupid brush of fingers.
So why was it still messing with him?
Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Malfoy’s smirk. Hear the way he’d said, Wouldn’t you like to know? Like he knew something Harry didn’t.
Well, that made one of them.
By the time Potions rolled around, Harry was determined to act normal. He was fine. Completely fine.
Except when Malfoy strolled into the dungeon, Harry wasn’t fine.
Malfoy looked like he had a secret. Like he was waiting for Harry to react, to slip up, to do something.
So Harry didn’t.
He kept his head down. Ignored Malfoy. Focused on his potion.
It worked. For about five minutes.
Then Malfoy took the empty seat beside him.
“You look tense, Potter.”
Harry’s jaw clenched. “I wonder why.”
Malfoy chuckled, propping his chin on his hand. “Must be all that thinking you’re doing.”
Harry ignored him. Stirred his potion exactly three times clockwise.
Malfoy leaned in. “Or are you thinking about me?”
Harry’s hand twitched. His spoon slipped, and—
Poof!
His potion let out a puff of dark purple smoke.
“Careful,” Malfoy murmured, voice way too amused. “Wouldn’t want to blow up the classroom.”
Harry refused to look at him. “You’re annoying.”
Malfoy smirked. “And yet, here you are. Listening.”
Harry hated how much truth was in that.
As if the day wasn’t bad enough, Slughorn had somehow managed to assign him and Malfoy detention.
For arguing in class.
Which, honestly, wasn’t fair, because Malfoy had started it.
Now they were stuck cleaning the storage room—alone.
Malfoy stretched lazily, looking around at the endless shelves of dusty potion bottles. “Well. This is a waste of my talents.”
Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing a rag. “I don’t think Slughorn cares about your talents.”
Malfoy sighed dramatically. “Tragic, isn’t it?”
Harry ignored him. Focused on wiping down a shelf.
He should have expected it.
The moment of silence. The feeling of Malfoy creeping closer.
Then—
A warm breath ghosting over his neck.
“Careful, Potter,” Malfoy murmured, voice lower than usual. “I might start thinking you like our little interactions.”
Harry froze.
Malfoy was too close. Close enough that Harry could feel the heat of him. Could smell whatever expensive cologne he used.
Harry turned his head slightly, eyes locking onto Malfoy’s.
Neither of them moved.
The air between them felt… heavy. Like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap.
Harry’s heart was pounding.
Malfoy’s gaze flickered—to his mouth.
And for a split second—just a second—Harry swore Malfoy leaned in.
But then—
Footsteps.
They jumped apart just as Slughorn peeked in. “All finished, boys?”
Harry cleared his throat, stepping back like he hadn’t just been an inch away from making a terrible decision. “Yeah. Done.”
Malfoy’s smirk was back. But this time, it wasn’t just amusement.
There was something else. Something satisfied.
As if he knew—
That Harry had almost let it happen.
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-authors
ok, ok, guys ill try to make the chapter longer alr..