𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬- 𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

Draco- 1. Shadows

House: Gryffindor

Warnings: fictional violence, a potential love triangle (maybe), loss of appetite and sleep, angst

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"I've got that in my mind."

"Honestly, Harry, shut up!"

The boy in question leapt up from his seat to the leathered bench ahead of him as Ron and Hermione left their compartment, sending smug smiles at their other two friends.

And there she sat, arms crossed dangerously across her chest, sending death glares in the Chosen One's direction.

"You know, we are not dating."

"I do not see any harm if we do," Harry shrugged nonchalantly as he strolled towards the trolley witch, throwing a chocolate frog towards her.

Still maintaining a stern look at him, she tilted her head, nibbling onto the flustered smile that was threatening to escape.

Harry was her friend. Best friend.

But somehow, the whole Hogwarts had something else planned for them. She was called Potter's girl (which she didn't seem to mind), but Harry's constantly increasing closeness could be counted as bothersome.

She wasn't sure how she felt about Harry. Her love for him, all she knew, was platonic. But Hermione had shaken her head in vexation and termed her as "Oblivious."

But that was months ago.

Now, when she was alone with Harry in their compartment, and his sly smirk never faltered, she decided to call it a break.

"Uh- I'll be back from- from the washroom."

And before he could reply, she slipped through the sliding door, and banging it shut, wandered with a thousand questions annihilating her mind.

Was she ready to start anything with Harry?

No, she definitely wasn't.

And there were no surprises when she trod on the hem of her own cloak and stumbled straight into a foreign person.

As if on a cue, her heels lost control over the thundering floor and she grabbed whatever was closest to her (she was sure she seized the shirt of the person).

She silently thanked all the wizard Gods that ever existed for not gifting her with a concussion as two calloused hands cushioned her head from the fall.

And she dared to loosen her clenched eyes, her eyes still fisting the soft shirt while the shrieking train caused her knuckles to momentarily brush against his toned muscles.

Pat her on the back.

She was lying under Draco Malfoy.

➶➴➶➴➶➴➶➴➶➴

"You know, you should stop staring."

"I'm not staring," she replied to Harry, her lips barely moving as her orbs were fixed on the Slytherin table, only blond hair curtaining the horizon of her sight, "I'm mentally stabbing."

Ron broke out laughing from beside her while Hermione's smile could be counted as supportive.

"Ow- 'oosen up a bit, Y/n!" Ron nudged her, chunks of unchewed food spraying across the table from his mouth. "Have this."

But she was merely listening.

Her orbs were still glued as she watched Malfoy, who looked significantly lanky and exhausted since the last term, get up from the dinner without a single word, without a single laugh, and without a single insult, a warm hand snaked around her.