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likes me.

I've almost gotten killed by a three-headed dog, killed a Basilisk with a sword from 990 A.D, survived a swarm of Dementors, but nothing—absolutely nothing— could have prepared me for that wonderful tidbit of information.

A few minutes after I changed into Draco's t-shirt, I found myself curled up under his silk blankets, watching as he brushed his teeth in the connected bathroom (I brushed my teeth before I came here. I'm not unhygienic). Sometimes I forgot he was wealthy.

"I'm praying Hermione doesn't wake up and realize I'm not there," I sighed, pressing my cheek into the satin pillow, "I need a good excuse if she does."

Draco stopped brushing his teeth, spitting into the sink and dropping his toothbrush into a cup.

"Tell her you had to see Madame Pomfrey," he suggested, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

I smiled in amusement, "I used that excuse last time."

"Use it again."

"She's Hermione, she'll see right through it."

"Well, there is one solution to that," he grinned slyly, pressing his palms against the rim of his marble counter, "you could always tell her you were with me."

I snorted, "rule number two, Draco."

"Stupid rules."

"That's rule number seven."

"You just want to punch me, don't you?" He chuckled, "the rules don't apply when we're alone."

I smiled to myself, propping my elbow up onto the mattress to keep my head up. It was definitely cooler in the Slytherin common room, a chill always lingering around the space, and occasionally I'd turn my head and see a fish swimming around from the windows.

Yes, the Slytherin common room was under the Black Lake. Spooky, right?

Draco glanced at his reflection, ruffling his platinum hair in the mirror, before turning to look at me. He had a cheeky grin on his face.

"Pity you're in Gryffindor," he remarked, "you look good in green."

I laughed, rolling my eyes, "laying it on thick with the compliments, are we?"

"I'm only doing it because I know you like them."

"Want me to give you a compliment?"

"Try your best."

I waited for him to make his way over to the bed, collapsing down next to me with a tired exhale. What? Yes, we were sharing a bed. It's cliche, I know, but what did you want him to do? Accio another bed out of thin air? Besides, we set boundaries beforehand, so I was lawfully allowed to sock him in the face if he tried anything.

I flipped around to face him, squinting my eyes in thought.

"Here's a compliment," I said bluntly, batting my eyelashes, "ready to hear it?"

He nodded his head, letting out a soft hum, "yeah."

"I think you looked better as a ferret."

The gasp that erupted out of the boy's mouth was loud enough to bring the Basilisk back from the dead. He snatched up his pillow, dropping it over my face in complete offense.

"Rule number eight," he hissed, trying to suppress a growing smile on his face, "you're not allowed to call me a ferret!"

"I thought you said rules didn't apply when we were alone!"

"They do now!"

"Well then, you suck, Malfoy," I giggled, "don't make me tell your father you're trying to cheat your way out of this!"

Draco rolled his eyes, sticking out his finger to poke me in the cheek with a smile on his face. It was completely spontaneous, and I snapped my mouth shut in confusion. Uhhh. Woah. I did not realize how weird it was for him to show affection in a non-shoving way.

Do I smell improvement?

"Okay, but in all seriousness," I said, flopping onto my back, "I thought you'd be a different way."

Draco raised a brow, flopping onto his back too, "a different way?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I've always imagined you—not that I've imagined you—but I never thought you'd be so quick to like someone of my standing. Considering yours, and all."

"As in?"

"Well, besides the stupid house rivalry, you're a pureblood," I explained, beginning to fidget with my fingers, "and there's nothing your family hates more than...a muggle-born. A person like me."

Draco pursed his lips, "so you're asking me why I'm a blood-traitor?"

I hate that word.

"In a way," I nodded.

"And you want to know why I was so quick to like you."

"Yes."

There was a pause, where he just stared at the ceiling of his green-spelled room, his eyes trailing off towards the windows. He was silent. Moments passed, and it seemed like he had drifted deep into his thoughts, unable to respond.

I rolled onto my side, placing my hand on his shoulder in an attempt of comfort. Giving him a soft press, I watched as he moved his own hand on top of mine, tapping his pointer finger gently against my knuckles.

"Draco?" I whispered, "you can talk to me."

"I know."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

There was another moment of silence, where he just let his breath hang in the air like a tense shadow, but then I felt him shift his body so he was laying on his side. He took a deep breath, and finally let it all out.

"I guess I've always felt like I was being made into a person I didn't want to be," he began, his voice wavering slightly, "my father never gives me any choice. It's always hate everyone who threatens you, and hate everyone who's above you, and my mother doesn't do a thing to tell me to stop."

He exhaled, continuing:

"And I wasn't a bully before all of this, because I just wanted to go to this blasted school like everyone else, but then everyone expected me to be a bully because of my name and line, so I had no choice but to follow through like my father would want me to."

There was another pause. It was clear these words were new to him, because there was a slight edge to his tone; one that made it seem like he'd never dared to speak in this way.

"But you..." he muttered, turning to look me in the eyes, "you gave me a choice to break away from that."

That sentence sounded so cliche, but I still loved it.

Smiling softly, I tilting my head to the right, "really?"

"Yeah, really." He nodded, "every single time I saw you, I'd keep up my wall of hate for the sake of my reputation. You'd get mad at me every time I did, and even though we had only just met, you never gave up on pushing me to do the right thing. You'd tell me I was being mean, and you'd call me out without hesitation, and you would just...make me want to be better."

He smiled.

"No one's done that before, understand? They always yell at me, or call me things behind my back for being the way I am, but they've never pushed me to do the right thing, as if I had a bloody chance to be better."

His statement made me feel enlightened, just for a brief moment, but it also made me feel sad and guilty.

Before I met him, I was the kind of person to talk behind his back and yell about his behavior. It was the way things were, considering he and Harry never got along. But that was before I why Draco was that way. I didn't know that he was forced into a position he didn't want to be in, but now that I did, I wanted nothing more than to help him have that choice.

He wasn't a bad person, he just lived in a bad environment.

"Promise me you'll try," I said, squeezing his hand, "I know it'll be hard, and people might think differently of you, but you should show people that you aren't a bully."

He exhaled, "that doesn't erase the things I've done."

"But it gives you a blank page to work on."

He tilted his head, his eyes traveling slowly down my face until he reached my mouth. He blinked, inching closer to me with caution. It was subtle, but it felt like the most noticeable thing in the room, continuing as I felt his hand press gently against my cheek. His palm was cold from the lack of heat in the room, but I didn't mind at all.

AhhhhHhhhhh....what is happening?

Like clockwork, a steady process began to take place, Draco shifting his position so that our mouths were leveled at the perfect alignment. There was a pause. A tiny, brief pause, and then I felt his bottom lip brush against the curve of my own.

Was I going to kiss Draco Malfoy?

Yes.

Well, I was, until the vision happened.

In the split of a second, something blinded my sight like a crack of lighting, an image beginning to play in my mind. It was like my body was sucked into a realm of unconsciousness, simmilar an experiment I once tried in Trewlawny's Divination class.

Suddenly I was in the Astronomy Tower.

"Out of all people," a voice said, "you chose Draco?"

It was muffled, a low sound that I couldn't quite put a finger on, but it was all happening so fast that I couldn't fully understand what was going on.

And just like it had started, it disappeared.

Pulling away from the boy in front of me, I covered my mouth with my hand, my breath heavy with confusion. What was that? What the hell did I just see? Suddenly the mood in the room changed into something off-kilter, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

Draco noticed, his gaze faltering, and he let go of my cheek.

He mumbled quietly, panic flashing across his eyes, "is something wrong?"

Yes, there was something very wrong.

One, I just saw something intrude into my mind; something unwelcome, and something incredibly unknown. 'Out of all people, you chose Draco'? That's what the voice said.

Two, now I found myself thinking of every single answer to that question.

I didn't choose Draco! It just happened, and I found myself spiraling into it before I could even get my feet onto the ground. Was this a sign? Was this some sort of message from the future trying to warn me?

I mean, I knew it was going to be tough sneaking around with him, but this took it to a whole other level. What would Hermione say if she found out? What would Ron say? What would Harry say? What would Draco's family and the entire school say?

And what would they do if they found out?

"Nothing's wrong," I lied, inching away. Maybe this really was a sign, and I had to do whatever it took to stop a horrible future from happening. I nodded my head, "I just don't want to hurt you."

Draco blinked, "but you won't hurt me."

"But they will. You know what will happen if my friends find out, and you know what your family—and your whole bloody house—will do to both of us."

The truth seemed to click into Draco's mind as well.

"So there's no chance?" he muttered, placing his hands on his forehead.

I bit my lip, "there might be."

"I mean, I get why my family is a problem," he said, sitting up, "but I don't understand why you can't just tell Potter and your Granger-Weasley group the truth."

Because I'm not good with confrontation? Because I've seen first hand what happens when Harry gets jealous? It was too soon to even mention that Mcgonagall paired us up for a task, becuase even she was trying to keep it a secret.

I narrowed my eyes, "what would you think if I was your best friend for four years, went on a date with you, got pressured into dating you by everyone in school, and then decided to get cozy with the one boy you hate with a burning passion?"

Draco blinked, batting his eyelashes in surprise, "Potter hates me with a burning passion?"

"Not burning," I clarified, "scorching."

"Well, what Potter doesn't know, doesn't hurt."

I sighed, "in time, Draco."

"So what do you expect me to do, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"You want us to be two people who like each other, but don't do anything about it because of a bunch of stupid rules made so other people don't find out about us?"

"Yes, Draco, that's why we made the rules."

There was a beat, where the both of us mutually decided that we should end the conversation there. It was late, we had school in the morning, and we were working on preventing a fight from erupting. Not to mention, I was still off-put by the intrusive vision that somehow entered my mind.

Maybe it was just my heart telling me I wasn't ready to take that next step.

But as I closed my eyes, I heard him mumble something under his breath:

"I think you just need the right push."

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