Draco Malfoy and the Girl Who Hid

46

Draco was waiting when Yn came down for breakfast the next morning, the scent of warm bread and fresh coffee filling the air. He was leaning against the window, his gaze distant until she appeared. As she entered the room, he straightened, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"I hope you're hungry," he said, gesturing to the table he'd had laid out with an impressive array of pastries, fruits, and teas. Yn hesitated by the doorway, her gaze shifting from the food to him, her wariness still evident.

"You went to all this trouble?" she asked, cautiously taking a seat. He poured a steaming cup of tea, handing it to her with a casualness that almost seemed genuine.

"Trouble?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone almost teasing. "You must be getting used to terrible hospitality."

She took a sip of tea, studying him. "I'm used to... other kinds of hospitality."

He gave her a knowing look, sitting across from her. "I know things have been rough," he said softly, his eyes meeting hers with surprising sincerity. "But we're alone here, Yn. Just you and me. It doesn't have to be that way now."

Yn kept her gaze on him, suspicious but undeniably drawn in by his words. There was a warmth in his tone, an attempt to offer solace that she hadn't expected. She glanced away, focusing on her tea, trying to steel herself against his words. But the vulnerability in his voice lingered, slipping past her defences.

"Why?" she finally asked. "Why are you doing all this?"

He gave a small shrug, his eyes drifting to the garden outside. "I told you. I want you to trust me."

"Trust you?" She set her teacup down, her tone sharper than intended. "After everything?"

Draco's eyes darkened, but he didn't argue. Instead, he leaned forward, his gaze intense. "That's why we're here, Yn. I'm trying to make things right between us."

She wanted to scoff, to brush him off, but the way he was looking at her — it was disarming. Slowly, she picked up a piece of bread, taking a tentative bite. Draco smiled, a genuine smile that caught her off guard, and for a moment, she allowed herself to relax. He was attentive throughout the meal, asking her if she wanted more tea, offering her different types of jam, even suggesting she try some honey with her toast. It was strange, this gentleness, and she found herself oddly comforted by it.

As the day passed, Draco continued his efforts, finding small ways to care for her. He brought her books from the library, asking about her interests and preferences. When she mentioned a faint memory of a favorite novel, he spent hours searching for it, only to appear at her door with the worn, beloved book in his hand.

He smiled as he handed it to her, leaning casually against the doorframe. "This was it, wasn't it?"

Yn took the book, her fingers brushing his as she did. She pulled back quickly, but not before noticing the slight warmth of his skin. She nodded, her eyes avoiding his as she muttered, "Thank you."

He leaned in slightly, his voice low. "You know, you don't have to keep your guard up with me. I'm not your enemy."

She glanced up, her heart skipping a beat at the look in his eyes. There was something there, something she wasn't sure she wanted to see — something dangerous and alluring all at once. She took a step back, clutching the book to her chest like a shield.

But later that evening, when she found herself alone in her room, she couldn't shake the memory of his gaze, the way it had made her feel. She didn't want to admit it, but there was something stirring within her, something that both frightened and excited her.

The next day, Draco invited her for a walk by the lake, claiming the fresh air would do them both good. She agreed reluctantly, her curiosity piqued by the chance to see more of the estate grounds. They strolled in silence for a while, the only sound the soft crunch of their footsteps on the gravel path.

"Are you always this quiet?" Draco asked, his tone light.

She gave him a sideways glance, her lips curving into a faint smirk. "Are you always this talkative?"

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "Fair enough." They continued walking, and eventually, he led her to a small gazebo overlooking the water. He gestured for her to sit, and when she did, he sat beside her, his arm resting casually along the back of the bench.

The silence stretched between them, comfortable yet charged. She felt his eyes on her, and when she finally looked over, she found him studying her with an intensity that made her heart pound.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like?" he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"What what would be like?" she replied, her own voice quieter than usual.

"To leave all of this behind. To start fresh." His gaze held hers, unflinching. "To just be... free."

She looked away, her chest tightening. "That's not possible for people like us."

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek, and she froze, her breath catching at the unexpected touch. "Maybe not," he murmured, his thumb tracing a gentle line along her jaw. "But that doesn't mean we can't try."

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as his hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Their faces were mere inches apart, and she could feel his breath warm against her skin, his eyes dark and searching. She knew she should pull away, that this was a dangerous game, but in that moment, she couldn't bring herself to move.

And then, slowly, carefully, he closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was both tender and electrifying. She felt herself responding, her own lips parting as she leaned into him, her hands reaching up to grip his shoulders. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, she allowed herself to forget, to lose herself in the warmth of his embrace.

But as the kiss ended, reality came crashing back, and she pulled away, her breathing ragged. She looked at him, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice trembling.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her hair back from her face. "Because I want you to see that there's more to us than what they've made us."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that he was wrong, that they were nothing but pawns in a twisted game. But the way he was looking at her, the way he was holding her — it made her want to believe, just for a moment, that there was something more.

And so, against her better judgment, she allowed herself to stay there, in his arms, letting him hold her as they watched the sun set over the lake, the silence between them filled with unspoken promises and forbidden dreams.