Truth, or Dare?

Chapter 2

"I don't see how that's any of your concern, Malfoy," I retort, meeting his icy gaze head-on.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, the heat spreading across my entire face in undeniable waves of scarlet and crimson. His touch lingers on my thigh, sending a shiver down my spine, a chilling sensation that leaves a trail of tingles in its wake.

His expression shifts, a hint of surprise or perhaps amusement flickering across his features at my bold response.

"Is that so, Y/L/N?" he questions, his eyebrow arching inquisitively as his gaze flicks down to where his hand rests on my thigh. "I'd beg to differ."

"It is indeed," I assert, gently lifting his hand from my thigh and placing it onto his lap. "While I appreciate your concern, Malfoy, I must remind you that class started five minutes ago," I add, preparing to stand.

He emits a faint snicker as he watches me rise, his gaze roaming over me with a mixture of amusement and appraisal. His tongue curls against his mouth, a subtle gesture that doesn't go unnoticed, before he too stands, running his fingers through his hair to tame the stray strands.

As he meets my gaze once more, I can sense him processing my responses and actions. It's clear that he's accustomed to having his way, a realization that doesn't escape me. Draco and I have crossed paths on numerous occasions in the past, given his past relationship with my roommate. 

The deterioration of Draco and Pansy's relationship reached a point where tensions hung heavy in the air like a storm waiting to break. Arguments erupted with alarming frequency, transforming their once-shared sanctuary into a battleground of bitter words and unresolved grievances.

As Draco spent a considerable amount of time in our shared room, I found myself caught in the crossfire of their disputes, a reluctant witness to the unraveling of their bond. Their exchanges became increasingly terse, and the icy silence between them became a testament to the depth of their estrangement.

Nowadays, their communication consists of little more than the occasional exchange of polite but distant words, a stark contrast to the closeness they once shared.

With a detached air, Draco reaches for the strap of my leather letter bag resting on the wooden seat, lifting it up and draping it over my right shoulder with a practiced motion. His expression remains impassive, his gaze fixed on some distant point ahead.

Turning his attention to my robe, which had slipped off my left shoulder in my haste, he shoots me a questioning glance before rolling his eyes in exasperation. Without a word, he reaches out and deftly adjusts my robe, securing it properly onto my shoulder with a quick, efficient motion.

Our attention shifts to the group of Hufflepuff girls, who remain curiously fixed in their original positions, their interest in our interaction palpable. They observe intently as Draco assists me with my bag and robe, their eyes widening in what appears to be a mixture of surprise and admiration at his unexpected display of friendliness.

Chuckles ripple through their group as they exchange glances, their gazes lingering on us with a newfound curiosity. It's as though they're witnessing a rare spectacle, baffled by the sight of Draco Malfoy extending a gesture of assistance, however small it may be.

"I suppose we should head to class then," Draco suggests, his gaze lingering pointedly on the group of Hufflepuff girls, silently urging them to mind their own business. With a subtle shift of his attention back to me, he gestures towards the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Shall we?" he asks, his tone polite yet tinged with an underlying edge.

I've never been more perplexed in my life. Why is he, now, behaving strangely? We've never exchanged such odd, not to mention tension-filled, words and behaviors. This will be difficult to tell Pansy, not that she cares anymore, but it will be awkward to a certain extent.