Harry spat out, tugging on his black windbreaker, "he just doesn't know when to stop, does he?"

Harry is about to die.

No, I shouldn't say that.

But Harry might die. He's ten minutes away from getting shoved into an arena with a dragon, and the only thing he has is his wand, a horribly fleshed out plan, and a very bad haircut. So he very well...might die.

"What are you going on about?" I huffed, tossing him his boot, "the only thing you should be worried about is killing this dragon."

Harry didn't care, "I'm talking about Draco."

"Since when are you not?"

"Since when has he ever decided to back off?" The boy scowled, "Dean Thomas told me Malfoy shoved you up against a wall by the Xylomancy classroom."

I blinked, "what?"

"He's sick for doing that, and I'm going to kill him the next time I see him."

Ugh, the way rumors spread like wildfire. Things always got twisted too. Draco Malfoy did not shove me up against a wall that day (although he did shove me up against a bookshelf), and besides, why was Harry surprised? Draco was known to be a bully.

"He's not worth it," I sighed, "and no, he didn't do that to me."

"Then why did Dean tell me he did?"

"Why don't you ask Dean?"

"Because he said he heard it from Angelina Johnson."

"Well, now you're hearing it from me," I said, placing my hands on the boy's shoulders. I paused, staring him in the eyes, before deciding to fix the lopsidedness of his glasses. "You've got this, Harry."

He told me he had a plan, but he wouldn't go into detail.

Typical him.

Taking a step back, I began to make my way towards the front of the tent, but I felt his arms wrap around my waist and pull me to a stop. At first my back was against his chest, but then he flipped me around so that I was facing him.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you?" He said, his voice hushed to a whisper, "because if he did—"

"He didn't."

"Oh," he said, "good."

He paused for a moment, just staring at me through the panes of his thin-rimmed glasses, and gave me this jumbled look. Half of it looked like fear, half of it looked kind-of desperate.

"You'll be watching from the stands, won't you?" He whispered.

I nodded my head, "I will."

"So you'll know I'm going to win this. For you."

"For me?"

"Yeah," he smiled softly, "for you."

And then he leaned in.

I watched it happen in slow motion, like some sort of pivotal scene in a romantic comedy, or some dire point in a drama. From him pulling my waist in tighter, tilting his head towards me, and the sharp inhale of his breath as he puckered his lips, I didn't know what to think. I should have seen this coming. No, actually, I did see this coming, I just didn't know it would be now.

Ducking my head, I wriggled out of his grip, stalking over towards the opening of the tent with haste. I didn't want to kiss him. Not like this. And maybe not ever, but I really couldn't think about anything other than escaping in the moment. Yeah, sure, I felt bad dodging him like that, but it wasn't what I wanted.

Stopping myself, I turned back to give Harry one last look in pity. He looked rejected, an embarrassed expression lined across his face.

"Get the golden egg," I smiled, "got it, Potter?"

He smiled back, although something was off in his eyes, "got it, [l/n]."

∞ ϟ

So basically, Harry was suffering.

Not that I could see it, considering he managed to hop on his broomstick and lead the dragon out of the arena, but I could feel it. And that was scary as hell.

"I'm going to get a better look," I said, standing up from my seat.

Ron and Hermione looked at me in understanding, nodding their heads as I stumbled away from the bench and down the stairs of the Gryffindor tower. I never liked these things, you know? They were never stable, always got a Quidditch player hurt, and were a pain to get out of.

Wrapping my sweater around me for added warmth, I scaled down the wooden steps in haste, my head tilted up towards the school to see if I could get a good look.

I didn't see Harry or the dragon yet.

Stepping onto the grass field to get a better view, I began to walk forward, but I felt someone grab my shoulders and thrust me against the wooden column of the area's structure. Ouch.

It was Draco, again.

"You're a goddamn idiot, [l/n]," he hissed, his hand wrung tightly around the fabric of my sweater, "I'm sick and tired of it."

Wow.

So the rumors were apparently true.

Draco Malfoy did shove me up against a wall, it just happened to be a day later. If I wasn't so concentrated on how cute he looked in the cold, with his fluffy jacket and pink-tipped nose, I might have gathered up a response to his insult.

Instead, I just smiled at him.

"Nice to see you too, Malfoy," I said, cocking a brow, "can't seem to keep your hands off me, can you?"

His breath was making icy clouds in the air, a result of the dipping temperatures of winter, and his eyes were brighter against his pale skin. While he may be a tempered jerk, he was a pretty boy.

When he heard my retort, he instantly dropped his hands, taking a step back.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" He frowned, narrowing his eyes.

I shrugged, "which part?"

"Yesterday, you daft idiot. You made me look like a fool in front of those Ravenclaws, and now half of the school thinks I shoved you against a wall!"

"Oh, but darling," I smirked, "you did shove me against a wall."

I was only calling him the endearing name out of ridicule, but once he heard the word come out of my mouth, he almost choked on his tongue. I'm being serious. I saw him widen his eyes, gulp, and almost choke on his spit.

Apparently Malfoy likes being called pet names.

"Okay, I'm done with this," he spat out, finally able to use his words, "I'm tired of you playing hard to get, and screwing with my mind, because I know you want me, [y/n]."

Now it was my turn to choke.

"No..." I stammered, waving my arms defensively, "no, no, absolutely not."

Draco narrowed his eyes, "don't you dare lie to me."

Right, yeah.

Rule number 13: Draco and [y/n] aren't allowed to lie to each other.

But I did just lie to him, and he knows I did (he better not try to punch me for breaking the rule, because I will Wingardium Leviosa him straight into the Whomping Willow), because it was obvious.

I did want him. I just couldn't say it.

"You've gone mental, honestly," I scoffed, taking a step away from him, "why the hell would you think that?"

He exhaled, another puff of hot air escaping his lips, "you really want to know?"

"Yeah, I want to know."

"Do you?"

"Just spit it out, Malfoy."

"Fine," he jeered, "it's because you look at me the same way I look at you, and I look at you because I want you."

When he ended his sentence, I swear I felt my body seep into the center of the earth and get melted into oblivion. Did Draco Malfoy just say he wanted me? As in me, a muggle-born, Gryffindor, best friend to his enemy, sassy, sometimes idiotic and—did I mention Gryffindor? Yeah. That.

There was no way that he could want me, because even if he did, it wouldn't be accepted. Maybe I knew that he did, and maybe he knew that I did, but I wasn't expecting him to confess it to me.

"Draco..." I started, unsure what to say, "I don't think that—"

He cut me off.

"You know why I stole the potion?" He asked, beginning to pace, "that stupid vial of Amortentia?"

I knew what he smelled, he said it to the class. Hot Chocolate and.....chestnuts. Wow, I'm stupid. I thought it was just a coincidence because he loved Christmas, but now it's just blatantly obvious.

This is why I'm not a Ravenclaw.

"At first it smelled like hot chocolate," Draco continued, his eyes glued to mine, "but after class I walked by it again, and it smelled different. Like smoke and firewood."

I kept listening.

"And then I remembered you screwed up your potion a few moments earlier, and it exploded all over your robes," he mumbled, "but I didn't believe that I could ever...I just—I needed to know if it was you."

I nodded my head.

"So I stole a vial, and when you followed me to the room, it smelled like..." he said, his voice trailing off. He couldn't bring himself to say it, because he was too wound up with everything going on in his mind.

So I finished it for him.

"Lemon and Vanilla," I said, tilting my head, "cause you always get your bloody cologne all over me."

He smiled.

It wasn't a flashy smile, or a slick grin, it was a genuine smile. It looked perfect on his face, like an expression he never usually wore, but was wearing for me now. I couldn't help but smile right back.

"Are you trying to tell me you like me?" I beamed, cocking a brow, "do you fancy me, Malfoy?"

The boy rolled his eyes, but I could see the rosiness of his cheeks starting to form already. He held out his hand, lacing his fingers into mine, tugging me away from the stadium and back towards him.

"And what if I did?" He teased, "what would you do about it?"

I shrugged, biting my lip. Touching him in public was a risk enough, but I doubted anyone was focused on what was happening behind the wooden stands. Draco noticed I still had my teeth pressing against my bottom lip, and he pressed his thumb against my chin to slide it out.

"You shouldn't bite your lip so hard," he smirked, moving his hand towards my cheek.

I grinned back, "would you like to bite it for me?"

Honestly, he looked like he was going to, and I stifled a laugh.

It didn't take him long to remember we were still standing in a very public space, where anyone in the stands could turn around at any moment and witness this. Witness us. Witness Draco's arms around me, staring at my mouth blatantly.

"I'll bite it later," he said, glancing down at his hand, "too many people here."

Giggling softly, I watched as he began to twist his metal ring off of his fingers, muttering a swear word when it got stuck on his knuckle. Once he pulled it off, he held it up to my eye level, showing me the silvery band. In the middle was an engraved snake, hints of green gems littering the sides.

"Take this," he said, smirking, "you'll need it."

I took it gently from his hands, sliding it onto my thumb with ease. I wanted to crack another joke, but it was clear we didn't have time for that. Talking outside was a risk, and we didn't want to get caught.

"Alright," I nodded, "why?"

Draco chuckled.

"You left something in Snape's classroom," he said, turning away, "would be a shame if you didn't get it back."

_