Chapter 9
Harry didn’t know why he kept replaying that moment with Malfoy in his head. It was just a smirk, a look, but there was something about it that stuck with him. He tried to shake it off—tried to pretend like it didn’t matter—but it did. It mattered more than he wanted to admit.
Classes continued, but Harry found himself drifting more and more. Even Ron and Hermione noticed the shift. They were both worried, though neither of them had the guts to confront him again. That’s the thing about friends; they could tell when something was wrong, but they didn’t want to push too hard.
It didn’t help that every time Harry looked across the room, he saw Malfoy. He was everywhere, it seemed. In every hallway, at every class, at every corner. And it was worse now, because Harry couldn’t figure out what this...thing between them was.
Harry sat through class in a haze. He could barely keep his mind on the lecture as Snape droned on about dark creatures and hexes. The lesson seemed endless, and Harry felt his focus slipping, his thoughts drifting toward Malfoy, once again.
He wasn’t imagining it, right? Malfoy had been different recently. More... pointed with his words, his gaze lingering just a bit too long. Harry couldn't explain why it made his chest feel tight.
At the front of the class, Snape barked out an order for them to pair up and practice a counter-curse. Of course, Harry was paired with Malfoy.
"Potter," Malfoy sneered as he walked over to him. "Try not to mess this up, alright? We wouldn't want another disaster on our hands."
Harry clenched his jaw but said nothing. Malfoy didn’t wait for him to respond, positioning himself too close, so close that Harry could feel the heat radiating off him.
The tension between them was suffocating. Their wands were mere inches apart, and Harry couldn’t focus on the counter-curse. His mind was too busy running through thoughts of Malfoy’s smirk, his closeness, the subtle way Malfoy’s presence seemed to take up all the air in the room.
"Just do it already, Potter," Malfoy muttered, his breath warm against Harry’s ear.
The words were a whisper, but they sent an electric shock through Harry’s body. His hand tightened around his wand, and for a moment, he considered pulling away, but something stopped him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t want this to end.
He wanted more.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, Harry practically bolted from the room. He couldn’t get out fast enough. But he barely made it into the hallway before Malfoy was at his side again, a smirk on his face, as always.
“Potter,” Malfoy said, voice low, like he was savoring each word. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You’ve been acting weird.”
Harry stopped in his tracks, heart pounding in his chest. "What are you talking about?"
Malfoy’s smirk deepened. “I’m not an idiot. You’ve been staring at me for weeks. What’s your problem?”
The words hit Harry like a punch to the gut. He swallowed, trying to find his voice, but all he could do was stare back at Malfoy, trying to make sense of what was happening.
“I’m not staring at you,” Harry muttered, more to himself than to Malfoy. He tried to brush past him, but Malfoy was blocking his way.
“Are you sure about that?” Malfoy’s voice dropped even lower, teasing, and Harry’s pulse quickened. There was something dangerous in Malfoy’s gaze, something that made Harry’s breath catch.
He had to get away. Now.
The next morning, Harry woke up with a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. His mind kept returning to Malfoy’s words, the way he’d stood too close, the way his presence seemed to swallow up everything else.
Maybe it was time to confront whatever this was. Harry didn’t know if it was anger, frustration, or something else entirely, but he was tired of pretending that nothing was happening between them.
It was inevitable. Harry and Malfoy couldn’t avoid each other forever.
The two met outside of Potions that afternoon, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to hold back anymore. He was done pretending.
“You want to talk, Malfoy?” Harry said, his voice low but clear. “Because I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t matter.”
Malfoy tilted his head, looking surprised for just a second. Then his smirk returned. “Is that so?”
Harry clenched his fists at his sides. “Stop acting like this is just some game.”
“Isn’t it?” Malfoy asked, voice full of challenge.
Harry stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking with every word. “No, it’s not. You don’t get to mess with me, with us—not anymore.”
Malfoy’s eyes flickered for a moment, like Harry had said something unexpected. And then, just like that, it was gone. The smirk, the cool composure—it all returned. “And what are you going to do about it, Potter?”
Harry’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll figure it out.”
The Final Chapter: Everything Changes
That night, Harry sat in the common room, alone for once. The tension had been building all day, and he knew, deep down, that something had changed between him and Malfoy.
What was this feeling? What was this pull that kept drawing them together? Harry didn’t have the answers, but he knew this—things would never be the same again.
As he stared into the flickering fire, he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Potter,” Malfoy’s voice broke the silence.
Harry stood, facing Malfoy. There was no more pretending, no more hiding. This was it. The truth was there, unspoken but clear.
“You’re impossible,” Harry said, the words sharp. “But I’m done avoiding this.”
Malfoy stepped closer, eyes glinting with something Harry couldn’t quite decipher. “Good,” he replied simply.
And for the first time, Harry wasn’t sure if it was anger, frustration, or something else entirely.
But whatever it was, it was real.
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-author
sry its a lil rushed