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(Y/n)'s POV

My first day of classes had finally ended and I collapsed onto the couch in my common room, letting out a deep sigh that echoed my relief. The exhaustion from navigating the numerous halls of the school weighed heavily on me, especially since half the time I had no idea where I was going.

My eyes drifted to the flickering flames in the fireplace, their warmth inviting. In front of me, the table had a newspaper, its cover featuring the man who seemed to be shouting, though no sound was heard. I picked it up and eyed the article surrounding his picture.

I read the whole thing, but only a few words stood out to me.

Did the bidding of he who shall not be named.

"He who shall not be named," I whispered to myself, the words lingered on my lips for a few brief moments. I recalled the times I had overheard my adopted mother utter those very words in hushed tones with a group of adults. When I dared to question her about it—as a curious child does, she had sent me away to my room, her voice sharper than usual.

True, I had been eavesdropping, lurking around a corner out of sight, but her reaction felt more severe than normal.

Footsteps echoed around me, drawing my attention away from the article I had been interested in. "You sound confused," Malfoy murmured, settling onto the couch beside me, his presence dominating the space as he propped his leg up on the cushion between us.

"I was just curious about who they might be talking about," I replied as I put the newspaper back onto the table.

He knitted his brows together, watching my every move. "Have you really been living under a rock all this time?"

Close, but not quite. I felt like one of those princesses trapped in a tower in a fairytale book, shielded from the outside world her whole damn life. There was a lingering bitterness within me towards my adopted mother for this. I often felt like an idiot, knowing very little about what others consider as common knowledge.

"Do you really have to be here?" I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice.

His lips curled into a half-smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Do you?" he replied, raising a brow. "I always sit here at the end of my night, this is my place to relax and think. You're the one intruding in my space." As he spoke, I caught sight of a letter in his grasp, his fingers idly twisting it in a slow circle, the black ribbon tied in a delicate bow swaying gently.

"Oh, so you're capable of thinking?" I leaned back, locking my gaze onto his. The dancing flames of the fireplace cast a warm glow that illuminated his grey eyes, drawing my attention to their striking features. They were undeniably pretty, I'll give him that, but it's the only good thing I've noticed about him so far, "If that's the case, what made you think it was smart to approach a hippogriff the way you did? Were you not thinking at all in that moment?"

He let out a derisive snort, his eyes now fixated on the letter clutched in his hand. Without uttering a word, he rose to his feet and flung the letter into the fireplace. Both of us watched it burn and crumple into nothing but ash "I figured if Potter could get on and ride it without a fuss, then why couldn't I?" he mumbled softly, his eyes still locked on the remnants of the letter, "Everyone babies that idiot and makes him out to be the greatest thing to ever come to Hogwarts. I suppose in that moment, I thought that was another attempt from Hagrid to make him seem better than the rest of us." His words were calm, but the anger behind them was as clear as day.

"Are you jealous?" I questioned, hoping to put together why he resents Harry so much.

His gaze snapped to mine, a flicker of disdain crossing his features. "Jealous? Don't be ridiculous." He let out a scoff, retreating back to the couch as if my words had physically repelled him. "I just don't understand what the big deal is. He's nothing special, really."

"He's a person, just like us, trying to navigate his own life and has gotten lucky in certain aspects and unlucky in others." Recently, I've come to discover a great deal about Harry. It turns out he made history as the youngest seeker at Hogwarts during his very first year. He is already in-tuned pretty well with his magical side and a few other things that don't have to be mentioned. But in summary, he is well liked and even looked up to by some, "Is that really a reason to dislike him so much?"

Malfoy rummaged through his pocket before pulling out a crinkly bag of crackers, which he opened and ended up spilling crumbs on the couch. "Yes." He said casually, wiping the crumbs to the floor.

I rolled my eyes, his stubbornness becoming unbearable. I stood from the couch, "Goodnight." A sigh escaped my lips; for a moment there I thought maybe I could pull a decent human out of him, I was wrong.

"Leaving already?" he mumbled in a sarcastic tone, his mouth stuffed with snacks.

I walked around the couch, resisting the urge to smack him across the head. Professor Snape made it look rather tempting, "Yes, to give you that alone time to think, you clearly need it."

A low chuckle escaped him. "I'll see you here in the morning, then. Make sure you're not late this time."

I paused for a second, turning to face him even though all I could see was the back of his head, "What do you mean by that?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts is scheduled for the morning, and once again, I was told to ensure you don't get lost," he replied nonchalantly, his attention still on the crackers he was eating.

"Why you?" I questioned curiously. Among all the Slytherins here, what made him the one to guide me through this maze of a school?

He turned to face me, a playful grin lingering on his lips. "To be perfectly honest, I volunteered. But that was before I knew how annoying you actually were; otherwise, I would have happily left you with Goyle." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Not to mention, we share the same classes, so it also seemed logical."

I finally made my way back to him, draping myself over the couch and resting my arms along its back. "What made you volunteer?" I asked, a teasing lilt in my voice. "You, of all people, who seems to despise being in the company of other people."

He paused, his eyes searching my face, lingering on my features before he spoke. "Weren't you just about to go to bed?"

"I was," I replied, giving a small nod, "But my curiosity got the better of me."

He made a soft sound, his gaze still fixed on mine, as if he were trying to decipher some hidden truth. At last, he said, "Well to answer your question, so did mine." Rising from the couch, he made his way toward his room. "See you tomorrow, (y/n)," he called out, enunciating my name deliberately as he walked down the hallway, slipping into his room and closing the door quietly.

(If anyone is a little confused, remember that y/n and Draco's first meet wasn't in the Great hall...he saw her on the train and as a teenage boy, it wouldn't be too surprising for him to jump on the chance of escorting the new pretty girl. Also if anyone noticed, I wrote that he closed the door to his compartment when she reached the 10th car, despite him being in the 6th, meaning his eyes were on her for a good minute as she walked.
Perhaps a Draco POV is needed with a little flashback of this.)

💚🐍

"I don't despise being in the company of other people by the way," Malfoy remarked, breaking the silence that had settled between us as we made our way to class. He wasn't late to meeting me this time, he was early. He had his head in a book as he leaned against the window, which framed the dark, mysterious waters of the lake. "Just certain individuals, yourself included," he added, casting a sidelong glance in my direction. 

"Well, it's good thing that after today, you won't have to be around me," I replied. Sure, we would still cross paths in classes, share meals in the Great Hall, and encounter each other in the common room, but he wouldn't have to play the role of my escort anymore. That meant no forced conversations or interactions. We can pretend we don't even know each other, just as long as he leaves me and my friends alone.

As we rounded the corner, we encountered a group of Slytherin girls heading toward us. Each one cast a bright smile in Draco's direction, yet he appeared completely unaware of the admiration reflected in their eyes.

"How's your arm, Draco?" one of the blondes called out as we passed.

"Fine," he mumbled, barely sparing her a glance, which seemed to deflate her enthusiasm.

I found myself studying him, attempting to understand the allure that captivated them, but my gaze lingered for no more than a few seconds before he turned sharply, narrowing his eyes at me. "What are you staring at?" he demanded.

"Nothing special," I shrugged nonchalantly, averting my gaze, "But really, how is your arm? You know, the tiny little scratch I hear you ran to your daddy about?"

"Shut up," he shot back, nudging my shoulder with enough force to send me teetering toward the wall.

A soft laugh escaped my lips as I made my way back to his side.

"Don't think I forgot about your little stunt with the apple core, or our conversation before that bloody chicken showed up. You're not getting off that easy."

I let out a derisive laugh. "So, let me get this straight: you throw an apple core at someone, and then made fun of him for experiencing something traumatizing and I'm the one in the wrong for defending a friend? Honestly, Malfoy, this all boils down to your bullying ways finally catching up with you." He halted mid-stride, turning to confront me, the bustling students around us casting curious glances our way. "Is it true that you've always treated people however you please, knowing they're too scared to stand up to you?"

He stepped closer, his gaze sharp enough to cut. The fabric of his robe grazed my fingers, while the cool scent of mint danced in the air, mingling with the warm notes of his sweet vanilla cologne. I braced myself for the venomous retort I expected, but instead, he took a step back, scrutinizing me from head to toe. "We're going to be late," he muttered, giving my shoulder a light shove to urge me forward.

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