The common room buzzed with chatter and laughter, the crackling fire casting a warm glow across the room. You moved through the crowd with your friends, caught up in the lively energy of the night. Maybe it was the hum of conversation or the electricity in the air, but your gaze found him. He stood with his friends, laughing, radiating an effortless confidence that was impossible to ignore.

Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, slipped an arm around his neck, and brushed your lips against his. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of apples and mint, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. Then the reality of what you’d just done hit you—you had kissed him, your best friend. A rush of conflicting emotions flooded over you, and before he could react, you slipped away into the crowd.

The next few days were spent avoiding him. Fortunately, your schedules didn’t overlap much, which made it easier to steer clear of any awkward encounters. That is, until Mattheo cornered you one afternoon, insisting you meet him by the lake for something “really important.”

You hesitated, but curiosity eventually won out. When you arrived, Draco stood beside Mattheo, the two exchanging a silent look before Mattheo smirked, gave you a pointed wave, and walked off, leaving you alone with him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Draco said, his voice low and steady. His gray eyes fixed on yours with a gaze that made your heart race. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you stammered, looking down at the ground. “You didn’t. I just…” You exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

You caught the brief flicker of something in his eyes—something intense and almost predatory. He closed the distance between you, his presence commanding. “I’m not sorry,” he said, his voice smooth and low, sending a shiver down your spine. “In fact, I want you to do it again. And again. Until it makes sense to you.”

You froze, breath catching, as his next words hit like a spell. “That I like you.”