my eyes watering with tears as I yawned.

I'll admit, sleeping on a satin lined bedspread left me feeling more of a morning person, but that excitement dampened when I realized Draco had gone. I didn't know how long I had been sleeping for.

As luck would have it, it was a Saturday, and I could sneak out of the Common Rooms while everyone was at breakfast. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand, I stood onto my feet, stumbling around the room for my uniform. I had left it on top of his dresser, folded neatly into a pile, but now it wasn't there.

There was just a note card in its place.

the paper said,

I flipped it over.

I would have liked to bask in the thought of Draco scribbling up this message spontaneously, his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what to write, but I was too busy staring at the clock on his wall in absolute horrification.

It was 9:52.

Almost an hour past Nine.

"Bloody hell!" I hissed, stumbling over my feet, "I'm going to die."

Scanning the room in newfound panic, I spotted the velvet chair sitting in the farthest corner of the room, a folded pile of items sitting on top of the seat. Why the hell did Draco move my clothes?

I snatched up my skirt, fumbling into it and cursing at the buttons that just didn't seem to want to button up in the hurry. Next came my shirt, then the tie, then the vest, and...where was my robe?

"You've got to be kidding me, Malfoy," I frowned, narrowing my eyes, "where did you put my damn clothes?"

If it wasn't for the chime of the clock hitting , I wouldn't have turned my head to see my robe strewn out under the dresser. It must have fallen out when Draco took the unneeded liberty to move my stuff around.

Snatching it up, I didn't even think before throwing it on and storming out of the boy's room with haste. The Slytherin common room was completely empty, with the exception of a couple moving portraits that made sure to stare at me with a judgeful gaze.

I ignored them, per the usual.

I also ignored Pureblood's sniveling as I strode out the door, picking up my speed so that I could make it to the Great Hall before breakfast. For Godric's sake, my friends better not be looking for me.

And they weren't, until I came crashing through the giant mahogany doors, my cheeks red with embarrassment.

"So terribly sorry," I said, as soon as I reached our usual table, "what did I miss?"

Apparently it was something drastic, because students from around the tables turned to look at me, whispering and laughing quietly to their friends. I didn't have time to brush my hair, that I knew, but it surely couldn't have been that...laughworthy (is that even a word?).

Hermione and Harry had their noses stuck in a book when I spoke, so they didn't say anything, but Ron dropped his fork onto the ground with an abnormally loud clatter.

He looked like he had been petrified.

"Bloody hell, [y/n]," he squeaked out, his face turning as red as his hair, "what's happened to you?"

Now Hermione looked up.

So did Harry.

"What do you mean?" I exhaled, sliding into an empty spot at the bench, "nothing happened to me at all."

Hermione didn't seem phased, but I noticed her scanning the room behind me for what seemed to be another target. Ron was still frozen to his spot, and Harry's eyes were bugged out of his sockets like he had just witnessed something worse than death.

"Why are you wearing a Slytherin robe?" Hermione questioned bluntly, snapping her book closed, "and why were you late?"

Now would be a good time to use that pleasekillme spell.

Tilted my head down in horror, I barely needed to glimpse at the dark green lining to realize I was in deep trouble. The deepest trouble. Trouble deeper than the black lake, and probably deeper than the snake chamber hidden underneath the school.

I'm not a smart person, but I'm not an idiot to realize why Draco moved my clothes earlier this morning.

He did this on purpose.

"Well, are you going to give us an explanation, or are you just going to sit there with your mouth gaping open?" Harry snapped.

And...this is exactly what I feared would happen—Potter would get jealous, the tips of his ears turning bright red, and the scowl on his face that was too imprinted to miss. When he was envious, he tended to blow a fuse.

"My mouth isn't gaping open," I said, snapping it shut, "and my robes must have been mixed up when the laundry was given back."

I hated how quickly I was able to lie to them. I usually never could, and now this made me feel like I was slowly shifting into a different person.

Or maybe I'm just incredibly nervous.

"Show me the name," Harry frowned, his fingers clenching around his fork, "the name on the tag."

Hermione and Ron cleared their throats uncomfortably, because like me, they all knew what happened when Harry's temper kicked in.

"Show me the tag, [y/n]," he said, "tell me whose robe that is."

I felt my heart beating faster, "it's not that big of a deal Harry."

"Just show me the name."

"You're causing a scene."

"Yeah, a scene you started, when you decided to waltz in here with bloody Slytherin robes," the boy scowled, his voice raising slightly, "who's robes are they?"

I am going to kill Draco.

"I told you it was a mistake," I began to explain, "why won't you give me some trust, here?"

Harry scoffed, his face burning up, "I thought you dodged my kiss yesterday because you weren't ready, but apparently you've just been getting it on with someone behind my back!"

That was too far.

Not his words exactly, but the fact he took the liberty to assume and expose things in front of the entire segment of students that were rudely eavesdropping. Snatching his fork out of his hand, I slammed it down on the table to stop him from stabbing someone with it.

"Harry James Potter," I hissed, narrowing my eyes, "if you ever put words in my mouth again, I will snap your wand in half."

He didn't back down, "I didn't put words in your mouth."

"You literally just accused me of something that never happened!"

"Well it had to have happened, otherwise you wouldn't be wearing the robes of a different house so proudly!"

I loved my best friend. I really did. But this was...this was a side of him I never wanted to see again. Maybe I was at fault for leading him on for so long, but in my defense, everyone always paired us together for as long as I could remember, and I never gave any other guy a thought until I met Malfoy.

And now that I did, I knew I didn't want Harry anymore.

"I am going to tell you this once, and only once, you so better shut the hell up and listen," I growled, standing up harshly from my seat, "I did not go behind your back like that, and if you ever accuse me of something like that ever again, I won't hesitate to put you back in your damn place, Potter."

And then I spun on my heels, storming out of the Great Hall without so much as a bite to eat.

I was too full of anger to be hungry.

This is exactly what I was afraid of. Harry was probably getting an earful from Hermione for assuming things about me, and probably thought it really was a mistake (and it was, but not in that way). Yet even though his suspicions would have died down, it just proved how dangerous this whole thing was.

He didn't even know it was Draco, and yet he was ready to throw a punch.

As I turned a corridor, I heard the familiar sound of leather heels clicking against the tiled floor, and a flash of platinum blonde hair disappeared behind a column.

Oh, I am going to kill that idiot.

I didn't want to wake you because you were going to smack me, I scowled, mocking his note in my head. No, he was just taking the time to switch up our robes and hurry away before I noticed.

"What the hell is your problem?" I yelled, storming into the Prefect's bathroom, "you better have a good explanation for this!"

I had followed him into the empty space with complete haste, and now I was watching as the boy propped his back up against his stone fountain in the center. He had that same grin on his face, but he was obviously trying to seem innocent by batting his eyelashes like some sort of cartoon princess.

"Morning to you to, darling," He yawned, "I don't know what you're talking about, but nice robes by the way. Slytherin fits you nicely."

I ignored that with spite.

"What in Godric's name possessed you to pull a stunt like that?" I yelled, stomping up to him,"did you not consider the possibility that Harry would find out?"

Draco shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I did consider it," he nodded, "and it seemed to have worked out for the better."

"How the hell was that for the better?"

"Because he doesn't know it was my robe, since I'm not the only blasted Slytherin in this school, and if you were so worried about what Potter would think, you wouldn't have followed me here."

"I only followed you here to tell you how embarrassing and immature the thing you did was!"

"Why was it embarrassing?"

"Because everyone thinks I...."

I stopped myself snapping my mouth closed. I wasn't going to give in to his questioning, because I was too pissed off to even be speaking to him in the moment.

"You know what, forget it," I spat out, beginning to walk away, "I shouldn't have done this to Harry in the first place, and this relationship is turning out to be a mistake."

Maybe I could have used better words—words that I actually meant— but things were heated in the moment, and my loud voice was echoing off the bathroom walls like an annoying puppet in my ear.

But before I could storm away, I felt Draco wrap his hand around my tie, yanking me backwards until our mouths were perfectly aligned.

"Tell me this was a mistake again," he scowled, "say it again."

I choked on my words.

I couldn't say it.

Even though I was mad, I knew he could sense the other thoughts running through my mind. It was in the way his gaze was pierced sharply. He knew I wasn't entirely angry, and that I couldn't be, because a small part of me...wanted this.

Wanted the truth to be out.

Wanted people to know what was going on between us.

And for a moment we just stared at each other, unsure what to say. Flickering my sight down to his lips, I hesitated to breathe. A month ago I wouldn't have dared to think about it, but lately all I could do was wonder what it would feel like.

What it felt like to kiss him.

"No, no, no," I said, scrambling out of the way, "this is a bad idea."

Draco looked about ready to crumble. Or die. Or crumble and die, and honestly, so did I.

"You've got to be kidding me," the boy complained, letting go of my tie, "stop being like this!"

I gasped, "being like what?"

"Being like an idiot, which explains why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, getting on my nerves, which explains why you aren't in Hufflepuff, and you clearly lack the courage of a Gryffindor, " Draco spat out, his eyes scanning me in subtle desperation, "otherwise you would have stopped being so damn scared and kissed me!"

I could only stare at him with a blank expression, my eyes glued on his sweaty blonde hair and pink cheeks.

This was clearly poking at his nerves.

"Well, If I'm not either of those houses, then that implies I'm a Slytherin," I huffed, narrowing my eyes, "which I'm not."

Draco gave me a look that almost made me choke on my spit. He had been waiting for me to say that, or something along the lines of it, and his whole demeanor suddenly flipped like a light switch.

"Give me an hour and you'll have some Slytherin in you," he grinned, cocking his head to the side.

I'm about to Expilliarmus the stupid out of this boy's head.

But I would be wrong to deny that his sentence was somewhat...clever (and immature, don't think I fell for it).

Narrowing my eyes, I shoved him away, hiding the sliver of amusement glinting from my pupils. Something about the humid weather of the baths, the heated banter we always shared, and the way he looked in my Gryffindor robe made me feel ever so tempted not to walk right out the door. I would have done it minutes ago, but something compelled me to stay.

I didn't need to be a genius to know it was him.

"You're a sodding creep, Malfoy ," I said, suppressing a smirk.

He cocked a brow, "I thought I was a ferret?"

"Yes, you are, but—" I stammered, my cheeks heating up anxiously, "besides that, don't you dare call me a coward ever again!"

"I'm only calling you what you are."

"I'm not a coward!"

"Then don't run anymore."

Grabbing my face with both of his hands, he tugged me closer to him, a soft grunt escaping his mouth. I closed my eyes willingly, but there was a pause. He pulled himself sharply back.

"You're okay with this, right?" He muttered under his breath, his voice clearly begging for the answer.

For a rich prick who was raised to take things that didn't belong to him, I was shocked he even bothered to ask for consent. Also, he was very impatient with my teasing, and his willpower was incredibly high.

Believe me, I would have poked further about it, but I didn't need to think about my answer before it rolled off of my tongue and into his mouth.

I would have loved to describe it, but first I have somethings to get out first:

DRACO MALFOY IS KISSING ME WHAT IS GOING ON HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY CALM THIS IS FREAKING ME THE HELL OUT I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO APPARATE AWAY BECAUSE MY BLOOD LEVELS ARE SHOOTING TO THE SKY AND I MIGHT FAINT OMG.

Okay, I'm done.

Draco's hands were still clasped gently on my cheeks, and this kiss tasted like a mix of vanilla buttercream and sea salt, but maybe that was mind tricking me into trying to place a word on how sweet this whole thing was.

Or whatever this was. It was more than a kiss now. Hands running along our bodies, not sure whether to stop in what place, or for how long, and the exhausting attempts to figure out how many buttons were on our robes without having to speak.

And it might have escalated farther, but that was until from out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the figure of Cedric Diggory standing in the entrance of the Prefects bathroom, a golden egg tucked neatly under his arm.

He was horrified.