Chapter 12: Familiar Complications

By the time Charms ended, the peace I’d been floating in all morning had thinned into something more fragile. Not broken-just… tested. Professor Flitwick dismissed us with a cheerful reminder about wand movements, and the room erupted into the usual shuffle of bags and chatter. Draco lingered beside me for a moment, fingers brushing mine as subtly as he dared. “Meet you after Potions?” he murmured. I nodded. “Library?” A corner of his mouth lifted. “Naturally.” He left first-careful, controlled, Malfoy-perfect. I watched him go longer than necessary. “Wow,” Hermione said dryly beside me. “You two are going to need mirrors if you keep staring like that.” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I wasn’t staring.” “You absolutely were.” Ron snorted. “It’s weird, you know. Malfoy being… normal.” “He’s not normal,” I said without thinking. Then, softer, “He’s just… different with me.” Hermione’s expression gentled. “That’s usually how it starts.” The corridors felt louder as the day went on. Whispers followed- not cruel, not exactly kind either. Just curious. Speculative. Hogwarts had always loved a story, and this one was too good to ignore. I caught fragments as I passed. 

“-Malfoy-"

 "-really her?”

“-thought he hated-”

By lunchtime, I was tired of pretending not to hear. I escaped to the courtyard between classes, sitting on the low stone wall near the black lake. The water was dark and still, reflecting the gray sky. It matched the twist forming in my stomach. I should have known it wouldn’t stay simple. “Enjoying the view?” I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Pansy Parkinson leaned against the archway, arms crossed, perfectly composed. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I was,” I said calmly. “Until you showed up.” She clicked her tongue. “Straight to hostility. Charming.” “What do you want, Pansy?” She stepped closer, heels sharp against stone. “I want to understand.” “Understand what?” “How *you*,” she said, looking me up and down unapologetically, “managed to do what no one else has.” I held her gaze. “Maybe because I didn’t treat him like a prize to win.” Her smile sharpened. “Careful.” “Or like a reputation to polish,” I added. Silence stretched. The lake rippled once, as if something beneath the surface had stirred. “You think this lasts?” she asked quietly. “Yes,” I said, surprising even myself with how sure it sounded. Pansy studied me for a long moment, then scoffed. “He’s complicated.” “I know.” “He’ll choose his world eventually.” I stood, brushing dust from my skirt. “So will I.” That seemed to unsettle her more than anger would have. She straightened, mask slipping back into place. “Good luck,” she said coolly. “You’ll need it.” She walked away without another word. I let out a slow breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. By the time Potions ended, my head was full- of whispers, of warnings, of the knowledge that liking Draco Malfoy didn’t come without consequences. Still, when I reached the library and saw him waiting at our usual table, parchment spread out and brow furrowed in concentration, everything else quieted. He looked up immediately. “There you are.” “Here I am.” I sat across from him. His foot nudged mine beneath the table, grounding, familiar already. “You okay?” he asked, eyes searching my face. I hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. Just… Hogwarts being Hogwarts.” He exhaled softly. “If anyone gives you trouble-” “I can handle it,” I said gently. “But thank you.” His gaze softened. “I forget sometimes that you’re stronger than you look.” I smiled. “I forget sometimes that you care what people think.” He snorted. “Only about you.” Something warm settled between us then- not excitement, not drama. Just certainty. Maybe things would get harder. Maybe people would talk. Maybe the threads would pull again. But as Draco reached across the table and laced his fingers through mine, I knew this much: Whatever came next, we’d meet it together. And this time, I wasn’t afraid. I leaned back in my chair for a moment, letting the quiet settle around us like a protective bubble. Then, remembering something I needed, I reached into my bag. “Be right back,” I said, pushing it slightly aside. Draco didn’t move, just watched me, the faintest crease in his brow betraying a flicker of concern. I ducked under the table, fumbling for what I needed, but the chair scraped awkwardly against the stone floor. “Careful,” he murmured, stepping closer. I froze, realizing too late that the corner of the table was just above me, sharp and unforgiving. Before I could react, his hand shot out. He rested it firmly against the edge, covering it as if it were a shield. “I’ve got you,” he said simply. I blinked up at him, startled and grateful. “Thanks,” I whispered. He gave a small shrug, eyes twinkling with that familiar mixture of mischief and sincerity. “Wouldn’t let you get hurt. Not here. Not ever.” I managed a small smile, feeling the warmth of him lingering even as I pulled out my parchment. When I sat back up, careful now, our hands found each other across the table again. The world outside might be loud and judgmental, but here, in this corner of the library, it felt like our own quiet universe. Draco leaned a fraction closer, lowering his voice. “You know, I could get used to this.” I tilted my head, heart skipping. “Us?” He smirked, just a little, but there was honesty in it. “Yeah. Us." I laughed softly, shaking my head. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that,” I teased. He shrugged again, unbothered. “Let them try.” And for the first time all day, I believed it.