Potter's Twin Sister || Draco Malfoy

30

Brimming with a sense of optimism, I walked briskly through the Slytherin Dungeon, my spirits high and my steps light.

Unlike the tumultuous first day of my third year, today was different. I didn't have to endure the chaos of making enemies or the anxiety of Sorting.

This year, I had a best friend, a portion of my chosen family was nearby, I was at my favoured place, and the prospect of the upcoming tournament meant fewer mundane lessons.

What could possibly go wrong?

"Potter," A cold voice cut through my thoughts, snapping me back to reality.

Malfoy's voice, I realised. I had momentarily forgotten about his presence amidst my contemplations.

"We need to talk." He stated, his tone crisp and determined.

I let out an almost involuntary scoff, my steps slowing as I turned to face him, even as I continued walking backwards toward the Common Room entrance.

"We are not talking, Malfoy." I declared, shaking my head with a mixture of weariness and defiance.

"We'll see about that." He retorted, his words carrying a conviction that hinted at a challenge yet to come.

Sporting a facade of unyielding resolve, I turned on my heel to face forward, masking the anxiety that churned beneath my composed exterior.

My encounter with Malfoy had a predictable outcome, he tended to get his way, and that reality filled me with an underlying apprehension.

Upon entering the Common Room with a feigned air of confidence, I quickly shut the door behind me and cast a triumphant smile in Malfoy's direction, though my true feelings were far from victorious.

Daphne and Lyra sat on the plush leather sofas by the fireplace, and I made my way to them, settling into a seat with a sigh of relief.

Before I could fully get comfortable, I heard the Common Room door open once more.

Still adjusting myself —crossing my arms and legs— I watched as Malfoy took a seat beside me, causing not only my surprise but also drawing raised brows from Daphne and Lyra.

Lyra's voice cut through the curiosity hanging in the air. "What's the occasion?"

Malfoy's casual response hung in the air like a veil of nonchalance. "Nothing much. Just felt like sitting here."

"Next to Amelia?" Lyra's question held a subtle undertone of scepticism.

"Next to Potter, yes." Malfoy affirmed, his tone casual, though his proximity spoke volumes.

Lyra's brows knitted even further. "You seem unusually fixated on her today."

Malfoy's retort carried a touch of sarcasm. "Comes and goes, you know."

As he situated himself beside me, his knee brushed against mine, and his arm found its way to the backrest behind me.

The arrangement was far from the typical "just two people bickering" scenario, and the atmosphere seemed charged with a different kind of energy.

My disapproval was evident in my gaze as I turned to him, my tone laced with irritation. "Alright, why exactly are you sitting this close to me?"

"Because I can." He responded with a nonchalant shrug.

I leaned away from him, my voice curt. "Well, you're too close."

A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in slightly, his tone sly. "I've been closer, haven't I, Potter?"