A churning feeling was apparent in her gut. She knew that if she was near a toilet she most likely would've thrown up.

A thousand questions went through her mind as she examined the item in front of her. Why did he have her diary? When did he manage to get it, they never spoke in school. He was just a passing face through the halls.

So how in the hell did he come into possession of her diary.

It said her name, it was her handwriting. She had many in the past, one for each year. But what she couldn't remember was writing her two final years diaries.

Was it fake? Did someone forge her handwriting? But why would anyone do that— for what reason?

"Y/N?" She stilled, hearing Draco's voice from the shower. She couldn't stay in his house any longer, not when he had her items in his house, not when he acted as if he didn't know her, and their relationship was nothing more than a simple school crush.

She shoved the diary in her bag, zipping it and hurrying back into the room.

Just in time as Draco stepped out of the shower, his towel hung low on his waist. Droplets of water cascaded down his chest, he was so handsome— but she couldn't let him distract her from her findings.

"Draco," she began, tearing her eyes from his chest and onto his eyes.

He had a frown on his face, confused at her tone— it was apparent. Especially after what they had done, but she couldn't help her tone of voice or the shakiness that came with it.

"I— I'm not feeling too well, I can't stay," she rushed, touching her forehead, imitating that she was coming down with a headache— or fever, she didn't know which one she was going with but hoped he didn't question the sudden illness.

She watched as his eyebrows twitched, he sucked in a deep breath. Hurt washed over his expression, but he was quick to mask it with a weakened smile.

"Right— that's okay, yes— that's fine, I'll take you home," he rambled, brushing past her and going into his walk-in closet.

That's where she had found the diary, in the chest of drawers where his boxers were. She couldn't let him go in there, he couldn't know she had the item.

"No— no, it's fine, I can manage," her voice stopped him in his tracks. She saw his back muscles flex— he was trying to relieve tension, she did that sometimes.

When she finished work, after a long day— she'd stretch her muscles, roll her neck. Typical actions of someone tense, but she didn't know why he was.

Draco turned around, his Adam's apple bobbed slowly. He cleared his throat, "that's fine, I just wanted to make sure— you got home safe."

"It's no problem, I'll apparate," she grabbed her belongings quickly, holding them within her grasp and took one final look at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" His eyebrows were furrowed, his cheeks tinged a lighter shade of pink.

"No— no, I— I think it's the wine— I will call you tomorrow," she nodded.

She could tell he was hurt, his body posture had sunken, his shoulders were hunched. The way he spoke, weaker— less confident. She didn't want to upset him, that wasn't her goal.

But she had to know what was in this diary, if she asked him straight away— he may have lied, regardless of what he told her, he had clearly been telling her lies to begin with.

So, she wanted to be in the comfort of her own home when she read the diary. With no disturbances from any outsiders.

"Goodnight," Draco took a step forward, but she apparated before anything could come from his step.

She landed in her room, immediately finding a comfortable seat on her bed. She retrieved the diary from her bag, taking a deep breath before opening it.

But her phone buzzed, only once— which indicated someone messaged her.

It was Draco.

'Y/N I'm sorry if I upset you in any way. If I pushed you too far then please tell me, I'm sorry again.'

'I'm just tired, goodnight Draco'

There was no reply after that, he had seen the message. She saw the three dots, which showed he was typing, but there was no further message.

The diary laid in her lap, she ran her fingertips along the edges. It was tattered in the corners, it had definitely been used, but by who— she didn't know yet.

Friday, September 6th 1996

Hi, diary,

You're stuck with me for another year, well two but let's focus on this year first.

I know this year is going to be horrible, I can feel it. I had my first classes today, and I don't know what the professors are thinking giving us 7th year work, they are out of their minds.

How do they expect us to pass anything? God I can't wait to leave.

But in more exciting news, Cho invited us to a start of term party. You know how much I love to party. Homework can wait for just a weekend, it's good to let loose for once.

Anyway, I'll talk to you tomorrow. I have to find a nice outfit, I may or may not be hungover when I write to you but there's nothing wrong with that.

Y/N.

A tear slipped down her cheek, dropping onto the parchment below her. This was her, no one copied or mimicked her writing.

She felt her chest tighten, she could barely breathe, but she pushed herself to read the next page.

Saturday, September 7th 1996

Hey diary,

Yes, I am hungover. But I'm still writing to you. Let me tell you about this party, it was...eventful.

Okay never mind, I'll get straight to it.

I kissed someone, someone I probably shouldn't have, someone I barely speak to, maybe once or twice? I think.

But I kissed him, or he kissed me? I can't remember, but I do remember the kiss. It was different to the other kisses I've had, this one was more...passionate. Weird right? Considering I don't even know him well, or like him.

He is a good kisser, I'll give him that. He tasted like spearmint and fire whiskey, an unexpected combination, but it was tasteful, addictive you might say.

And! He wasn't the groping type, you know— well you don't know. But the ones that try to feel you up when you're kissing. No, he was respectful, only placing his hand on my lower back or cheek— which I found unusual when you think of his reputation.

I can't even remember how it started, all I remember was his friends handing me shots of fire whiskey. He stayed in the back until I caught him whispering to his friend while pointing towards me.

I found it sweet.

Oh, I didn't tell you who he was. It was Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin. Yeah him, he was the one I kissed, for a while actually.

I have to go, I need to study but I'll see you tomorrow!

Y/N.

She gasped, a million and one emotions stormed through her body. And she didn't know how to react, the most prominent one was confusion. She had so many questions, and couldn't even answer one of them.

It made no sense, she didn't remember having a conversation with him. But here it was, in black and white, she had spoken with him— no, she had done more than that, she had kissed him.

She kept reading over the same lines, just to make sure there wasn't an error.

It was Draco Malfoy.

It was Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin.

It wasn't a common name, it was obscure, so there was not an option that it could've been someone else.

Maybe she made it up, maybe it was a dream and she wrote it down. No— Y/N knew herself well, she only wrote facts, snippets of her day, memories that she wished to keep and hold on to.

She had to find his name again, to be positive it was true. She skipped pages, scanning the lines for his name again, and she found it, only a few days later in her diary— she found his name again.

Thursday, September 12th 1996

Hi, diary,

I'm starting to like this year's schedule. We have a lot of free time, which gives me more time to study for these N.E.W.T exams.

Cho and I will be visiting Hogsmeade this weekend, I suppose Luna will come along, I'm looking forward to that.

Remember I said I couldn't remember speaking with Draco Malfoy before kissing him, yeah, well we spoke today. And this conversation I remember well, I mean, of course I do, it was only a couple of hours ago.

So, I'll tell you what happened. I walked into potions, we have classes with Slytherins this year, you know the awful reputation they have, well they're not as bad as you'd think. Pansy is quite nice, so is Theodore.

I'm rambling arent I? So, I walked into potions, taking my normal seat. I was early, the first one in the classroom. And then he walked in, very causally, deep in a conversation with Blaise? I think it's Blaise but yeah they were in a conversation.

I tried not to look at him, I haven't seen him since Saturday, so I didn't know how he felt about kissing me. So I stared at my parchment, ignoring his presence and then...

And then he leaned onto my desk, I peered up at him. Cautious of what he was going to say, I mean, he could've told me not to speak a word about what had happened but he said the opposite.

He greeted me, politely, and then said 'are you avoiding me?'. Now, I was confused by that, because personally, I hadn't seen him, but that one question summed up that he wasn't regretting what had happened.

Obviously, I told him no, to which he nodded. After that he came closer to me, close enough that I could smell his scent, I could feel his breath against my ear— spearmint but without the fire whiskey.

And he breathed against me 'I enjoyed tasting you the other night'. He walked off after, I was shocked, surprised and so aroused. But nothing will come of it, his reputation with girls is terrible, I wouldn't allow myself to fall into his trap.

I'm going to sleep, I love you diary.

Y/N.

There she had it, confirmed in ink, she had met Draco before, they had conversations before. She couldn't bring herself to read further, her tears were already beginning to smudge the old ink that was etched into the parchment.

She needed answers, and now.

So she picked up her phone, dialling a number. She didn't want to speak with Draco right now, no, so she would speak with someone else, someone who couldn't lie to her face.

Pansy Parkinson.

"Hello? Why are you calling me so late?" She huffed through the phone, her voice tired as if she had just woken up from slumber.

But Y/N didn't care, sleep was less important right now.

"Pansy, you need to come here, it's an emergency," Y/N rushed, slamming the diary shut and taking a deep breath.

"Alright, alright— what is it?" She could hear shuffling through the phone, a sign that Pansy was getting herself up and ready to come to her house.

"I need answers about this fucking diary."

There was silence on the other side of the line, she heard Pansy call for Theo and then curse words being thrown around shortly after.

"What— diary?" Pansy spoke slowly.

"My old diary that I found in Draco's room," Y/N couldn't believe the words that came out from her mouth. But the three diary entries she had read confirmed that what she was saying was true.

It wasn't a hallucination or a dream, this was real— someone hadn't told her the truth and she would find out today.

"Fuck—" the line went dead, she looked at her phone to see what had happened if the signal had been lost— but no, Pansy had ended the phone call.

There was a crash in her apartment, coming from the kitchen. It was probably Pansy she thought to herself, she stood up and rushed out of her room, the diary held tight within her hand.

But it wasn't Pansy, it was him.

Draco Malfoy had turned up instead, with glassy eyes, tears that threatened to fall from them with a single blink.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Don't— just tell me what's going on," her voice was stern, laced with anger.

"Yes, yes I will— but you have to trust me, please just trust me."

She didn't want to, how could she trust him when he was lying about meeting her. They had spoke in their 6th year, and despite not reading the rest of the entries, those three were enough to know he was hiding something.

But, she needed to know the truth. So she nodded, agreeing to trust him, and finally, get some answers.