Fake it.
The next day, Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, staring into the fire as he mentally rehearsed what he was about to do. He knew he needed to act quickly; Harry was already suspicious, and if Draco wanted to regain the upper hand, he had to make the first move. Pretending to end the bet was the only way to throw Harry off balance again, to make him question everything.
It was risky, but Draco had always been good at taking risks. He had no choice. The plan was starting to unravel, and he needed to take back control before it got worse.
Later that day, Draco found Harry alone in the corridor, heading to the library. His heart raced as he approached, but he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral. This had to be convincing.
"Potter," Draco called out, quickening his pace to catch up.
Harry stopped and turned, a guarded look in his eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
Draco smirked, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We need to talk. About the bet."
Harry stiffened, his expression hardening. "I don't think there's anything to talk about."
Draco shook his head, his voice low and serious. "You're wrong. There's something you need to know."
Harry crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What are you playing at now, Malfoy?"
Draco took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't let any of his true feelings show. He had to be convincing. "I'm ending it."
Harry blinked, clearly taken aback. "What?"
"The bet," Draco said, keeping his tone steady. "It's off. I'm done with it."
Harry stared at him, searching his face for any sign of deception. "Why? You seemed so eager before. What changed?"
Draco shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Maybe I realized it was pointless. Or maybe I just got bored. Take your pick."
Harry's eyes flickered with confusion, but he didn't say anything at first. He was clearly trying to process what Draco had just said, to figure out if there was a catch.
"So that's it?" Harry finally asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're just giving up?"
Draco nodded, though the words felt strange in his mouth. "Yeah. Consider it over. You win, Potter."
Harry frowned, clearly not expecting this turn of events. "What's your angle, Malfoy? Why should I believe you?"
Draco smirked again, this time with more confidence. "Believe what you want, Potter. I'm just telling you how it is."
Harry's eyes narrowed further, but before he could respond, Draco turned on his heel and walked away, not giving him a chance to probe further. He couldn't afford to stick around, not when he felt like he was barely holding himself together.
As he walked away, Draco felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety. He had done what he needed to do, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just made everything more complicated. Ending the bet might have been the right move to throw Harry off, but it also meant that Draco had to face the fact that his own feelings were getting more tangled than he'd anticipated.
He had to keep reminding himself that this was all part of the plan, that it was necessary to keep Harry guessing. But as he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the confused look on Harry's face, Draco couldn't help but wonder if he was starting to lose sight of the original goal.
-------------------------------
Draco had always prided himself on his ability to play mind games, to keep others guessing and off balance. But this was different. This time, he was playing with fire, and he knew it. The only way to regain control after pretending to end the bet was to take things a step further—to make Harry question everything by fake flirting with him. It was a dangerous game, but Draco was willing to take the risk.
The opportunity presented itself during their next Potions class. As usual, they were paired together, and the tension between them was palpable. Harry was still wary, clearly unsure of Draco's motives after their last conversation. Draco could see it in the way Harry avoided his gaze, the way his movements were a little too stiff, a little too careful.
Draco decided it was time to push the boundaries. As they worked on their potion, he leaned in closer than necessary, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing tone. "You know, Potter, you really should let me handle the more delicate ingredients. I wouldn't want you to mess up and ruin this masterpiece."
Harry shot him a sideways glance, clearly caught off guard by the sudden change in Draco's demeanor. "I can handle it," he replied, his tone defensive.
Draco smirked, letting his fingers brush lightly against Harry's as he reached for the powdered moonstone. "I'm sure you can, but it doesn't hurt to have a little help, does it?"
Harry's eyes widened slightly at the contact, and he quickly pulled his hand away, focusing intently on the cauldron as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "I don't need your help, Malfoy," he muttered, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice.
Draco chuckled softly, enjoying the reaction he was eliciting. "Maybe not, but it doesn't mean you can't enjoy my company. Who knows, you might even like it."
Harry stiffened, clearly uncomfortable with the shift in their dynamic. "What are you playing at?"
Draco feigned innocence, his smirk widening. "Playing? Who says I'm playing, Potter?"
Harry finally turned to look at him, his green eyes searching Draco's face for any sign of a trick. "This isn't funny, Malfoy."
Draco tilted his head slightly, letting his gaze linger on Harry a bit longer than necessary. "Who said I was joking?"
Harry's breath hitched, and for a moment, Draco thought he might have pushed too far. But then Harry scowled, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Whatever game you're playing, it's not going to work."
Draco leaned back, still smirking, but there was a glint of something more in his eyes—something almost challenging. "We'll see about that."
For the rest of the class, Draco kept up the act, making subtle comments and brushing against Harry just enough to keep him on edge. He knew Harry was confused, torn between suspicion and something else, something that Draco could see flickering behind those bright green eyes.
As they finished their potion, Draco leaned in close again, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know, Potter, you're more interesting than I gave you credit for."
Harry tensed, his eyes darting to Draco's, searching for the usual malice or mockery. But Draco kept his expression unreadable, letting the words hang in the air.
"Just stop it, Malfoy," Harry said finally, his voice low but strained. "Whatever this is, just stop."
Draco pulled back, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "As you wish, Potter."
But as he gathered his things and left the classroom, Draco couldn't help but feel a strange twist in his chest. This was supposed to be a game, a way to keep Harry off balance. But the more he played this role, the more he started to wonder if he was getting too caught up in it himself.
Whatever it was, Draco knew one thing for certain: the more he toyed with Harry, the harder it was becoming to distinguish between the act and the reality. And that scared him more than he was willing to admit.