Boundaries Blurred (Harry and Draco’s POV)
The next few days passed in a haze for both Harry and Draco. The literal kiss in the empty classroom hung over them like a dark cloud, infiltrating their thoughts at every moment. They both did their best to avoid each other, but in a school like Hogwarts, that was nearly impossible. It was as if every hallway, every class, every meal in the Great Hall served as a reminder of the unresolved tension crackling between them.
Harry’s POV
Harry had spent most of the weekend buried in his books, trying to pretend nothing had happened. He had hoped that focusing on schoolwork would drown out the thoughts swirling in his head, but it was no use. Every time he closed his eyes, he could feel the heat of Draco’s breath on his skin, and could see the intensity in those grey eyes that had haunted him since their confrontation.
He didn’t understand it—how everything had spiraled so quickly out of control. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this about Draco. Malfoy was supposed to be his enemy, the person he despised most at Hogwarts. But somehow, that anger had transformed into something else. Something… he didn’t know how to deal with.
"Harry, you’ve been staring at the same page for ten minutes," Hermione said, snapping him out of his daze. She was sitting across from him in the common room, her own book in hand but her focus clearly on him.
Harry blinked and looked down at the textbook he had been pretending to read. Sure enough, he hadn’t turned the page in what felt like ages. "Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Just… tired."
"Right," Hermione said, her voice full of suspicion. She leaned forward, lowering her voice so that Ron, who was sitting nearby, couldn’t hear. "You’ve been distracted for days now. Does this have anything to do with Malfoy?"
Harry stiffened at the name, his pulse quickening. "Why would you think that?"
"Because you’ve been acting strange ever since Potions class last week," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "And it’s not like you to let Malfoy get under your skin this much. Something’s going on, Harry. You can tell me."
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding her gaze. How could he explain this to her? He barely understood it himself. And the last thing he wanted was to involve Hermione and Ron in whatever this… thing was between him and Draco.
"It’s nothing," Harry said quickly, trying to brush it off. "Just the usual Malfoy rubbish."
Hermione gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him for a second, but thankfully, she didn’t press the issue. "If you say so," she said quietly, turning her attention back to her book.
Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He didn’t know how long he could keep this up—pretending like everything was fine when it was anything but. The truth was, Draco was in his head now, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake him loose.
Draco’s POV
Draco had been keeping to himself more than usual, hiding out in the Slytherin common room or disappearing to the library whenever he had the chance. The constant barrage of thoughts about Harry was driving him insane, and he couldn’t stand being around people who might notice his distraction. Especially not Pansy, who had a habit of prying into things she didn’t need to know.
It was late in the evening when Draco finally found a moment alone. He sat in one of the empty classrooms near the dungeons, his head resting in his hands as he tried to make sense of everything. It felt like his life had been turned upside down ever since that confrontation with Potter. Draco had pushed Harry, practically dared him to admit what was happening between them. But in the end, Harry hadn’t said a word. He had just stood there, staring back at Draco with those bright green eyes, as if he was just as confused.
Draco had wanted to kiss him. That much was undeniable now. He had come so close, so dangerously close to crossing a line he could never uncross. And what scared him more than anything was the fact that he still wanted to cross it.
But what did that mean? Was this just another manifestation of the rivalry between them, or was it something more? Something darker and more complicated than Draco had ever anticipated?
"You’re losing it," Draco muttered to himself, running a hand through his platinum hair. "This is Potter, for Merlin’s sake. You hate him."
Did he, though? The more Draco thought about it, the more he realized how much their hatred had blurred into something else. The way they challenged each other, the way they were constantly at each other’s throats—it wasn’t just about school or blood status or any of the things they had fought over for years. It was about something deeper, something raw and primal that neither of them had wanted to admit.
Now, it was all coming to a head.
The next day, Draco walked into Potions class with a sense of dread hanging over him. He had managed to avoid Harry for most of the weekend, but now there was no escaping it. They would be working together again, sitting side by side in Snape’s dimly lit classroom, and Draco wasn’t sure how he was going to keep himself in check.
As he slid into his usual seat, Draco glanced over at the door just in time to see Harry walk in. Their eyes met for a brief second, and Draco’s heart skipped a beat. Harry looked just as tense and uneasy as Draco felt, and for a moment, Draco wondered if Harry had been thinking about that almost-kiss as much as he had.
Snape’s voice cut through the silence, drawing Draco’s attention back to the front of the room. "Today, we’ll be brewing a particularly complex potion," Snape announced, his dark eyes sweeping over the class. "I expect nothing short of perfection from each and every one of you."
Draco barely listened to the instructions. His mind was too occupied with the fact that Harry was sitting right next to him, close enough that Draco could feel the warmth of his body. Every movement Harry made—reaching for ingredients, adjusting his cauldron—seemed to send a jolt of awareness through Draco, reminding him of just how close they had come to crossing the line last week.
They worked in silence, the tension between them almost suffocating. Every now and then, their hands would brush against each other as they reached for the same ingredient, and every time it happened, Draco felt his pulse quicken.
It was maddening.
Finally, about halfway through the class, Draco couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned over slightly, keeping his voice low enough so that only Harry could hear. "We need to talk," he whispered, his eyes fixed on the potion in front of him.
Harry tensed beside him but didn’t look up. "Not here," he muttered under his breath.
"After class," Draco insisted. "Meet me in the corridor."
Harry hesitated, his jaw clenched as if he was weighing his options. But eventually, he gave a small nod, his eyes still focused on the cauldron.
The rest of the class passed in a blur, and by the time Snape dismissed them, Draco’s nerves were on edge. He waited just outside the classroom, leaning against the cold stone wall as the other students filed out. Finally, Harry appeared, his expression wary as he approached Draco.
"Alright," Harry said quietly. "What do you want to talk about?"
Draco straightened, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t have a plan for this conversation—he hadn’t even figured out what he wanted to say. But he knew one thing for certain: they couldn’t keep pretending nothing had happened.
"I’m done playing games, Potter," Draco said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "We need to talk about what’s going on between us."
Harry’s eyes flickered with something—anger, confusion, fear. "And what exactly is going on between us?" he asked, his tone sharp. "Because I don’t know about you, but I’m just trying to get through school without losing my mind."
Draco let out a frustrated breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You can’t keep denying it. We both know there’s something—"
"Something what?" Harry interrupted, his voice rising slightly. "Something… more? Because if that’s what you’re saying, Malfoy, I don’t know what the hell you expect me to do about it."
Draco took a step closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t have to do anything, Potter. You just have to admit it."
Harry’s eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, Draco thought he might storm off. But instead, Harry stood his ground, his breathing heavy as the tension between them thickened.
"I don’t know what you want from me," Harry said finally, his voice strained. "But I can’t do this. Not right now."
Draco’s chest tightened, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of something like vulnerability. He had pushed Harry, but maybe he had pushed too hard. Maybe Harry wasn’t ready to confront what was happening between them.
Maybe Draco wasn’t ready, either.
"Fine," Draco said quietly, stepping back. "But this isn’t over, Potter."
Harry didn’t respond. He just turned and walked away, leaving Draco standing alone in the empty corridor.