Y/N Potter?

Chapter 10: Shadows and Secrets

The cool air of the dungeons felt heavier than usual as I walked through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. Each step echoed off the stone walls, the silence pressing in on me like a weight I couldn't shake. My head was filled with a mix of confusion, frustration, and something else—something I hadn't wanted to admit to myself until now.

Draco.

No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, he had wormed his way into my thoughts, lingering in the back of my mind like an unanswered question. Why did he act the way he did? Why did he pull people close only to push them away? And why did I care so much?

I paused outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room, my hand hovering over the stone wall. I couldn't go in yet. Not until I had some answers. Turning sharply, I made my way back up the stairs, winding through the quiet corridors until I reached the dark hallway where I knew I'd find him.

Sure enough, there he was—Draco Malfoy, leaning against the wall outside one of the abandoned classrooms, his usual smirk absent. Instead, he looked lost in thought, his brow furrowed as if wrestling with something he didn't want to acknowledge.

I hesitated, watching him from a distance. There was something about him, something that wasn't just arrogance or pride. I'd seen it in fleeting moments—the way his gaze would soften when he thought no one was looking, or the rare vulnerability that flashed across his face before he shut it down.

He noticed me before I could decide whether to approach or not. His eyes locked on mine, and for a second, the guarded walls fell away. But as quickly as it came, the vulnerability vanished, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.

"Lurking in the shadows, Y/N?" he asked, his voice cool but lacking the usual bite. "I didn't take you for the stalking type."

I crossed my arms, determined not to be intimidated. "I wasn't stalking you. I just... needed to talk."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my directness. "Oh? And what could you possibly need to talk to me about? Something riveting, I'm sure."

I took a deep breath. This was my moment—no more skirting around the truth. "Why do you act like you don't care about anyone? About anything? You push people away, and yet... you don't seem happy doing it."

Draco's smirk faltered, replaced by a look of irritation. "What makes you think I owe anyone an explanation? Least of all you?"

"You don't," I said, stepping closer. "But I think you owe it to yourself. You act like you're untouchable, like none of this matters, but I know that's not true."

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might shut me out completely. But instead, he let out a sharp breath, his gaze shifting to the ground. "You don't know anything about me," he muttered, his voice low.

"I know more than you think," I said quietly. "I know what it's like to be stuck in a world of expectations. My parents... they're not like yours, but they've always had plans for me, expectations I never asked for. I know what it feels like to live under that weight."

Draco's eyes flicked up, a flash of surprise crossing his face. He stayed silent for a moment, and I could see the gears turning in his head. This wasn't a conversation he was expecting.

"You think you understand?" he asked, but there was no mockery in his voice now. Only a guarded curiosity.

"I do," I insisted. "You think you have to be someone you're not because that's what's expected. I get that. You don't want to disappoint them, and it feels like there's no other choice but to be what they want."

Draco looked away, his jaw tightening. "It's not that simple," he muttered. "You don't understand the kind of pressure I'm under. It's not just about disappointing them... there's more at stake. Things you wouldn't understand."

"Try me," I said quietly, stepping even closer. "I'm not saying our situations are the same, but I know what it feels like to be trapped, to feel like your life is being decided for you."

He didn't say anything, but I saw the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. Maybe, just maybe, I was getting through to him.

"It's not just about what people think," Draco finally said, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. "It's about who I am. Who I have to be. I don't have a choice in that."

I frowned, my heart aching at the rawness in his words. "Of course you have a choice, Draco. You can choose who you want to be. You're not just your family's puppet."

He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something like regret. "It's not that simple. You don't understand... my family, they expect things from me. There's no escaping that."

I took a step closer, my voice soft but firm. "Maybe you don't have to escape it. Maybe you just need to stop letting it control you."

For the first time, Draco's expression cracked—really cracked. The mask he always wore, the one that kept everyone at arm's length, shattered for just a moment. His gaze softened, and I saw the boy beneath the layers of armor—the boy who was scared, who felt like he had no choice but to play the part that had been written for him.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper now. "You think I can just... change?"

"I don't want you to change who you are," I said gently. "I just want you to be honest with yourself. Stop hiding behind this image of what everyone expects you to be."

Draco's jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might push me away again. But then, with a sigh, he leaned back against the wall, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "It's not easy," he admitted. "I've spent so long trying to be what they want me to be. I don't even know who I am anymore."

I swallowed, the heaviness of his words settling in my chest. "Maybe that's something we can figure out together."

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine as if trying to find some kind of reassurance. "Why do you even care? Why are you trying so hard to understand me?"

I paused, unsure of how to put my feelings into words. "Because I see something in you, Draco. Something real, something worth knowing. And I think, deep down, you want to be understood."

Draco didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked away, his face a mix of emotions—frustration, doubt, fear. But there was something else too, something that looked almost like hope.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice so quiet I almost didn't hear it. "I don't know how to be anyone else."

I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "You don't have to be anyone else. Just be you."

Draco's gaze met mine, and for the first time, I saw something raw and unguarded in his expression—something fragile. He wasn't the invincible Draco Malfoy everyone thought he was. He was just a boy trying to find his way in a world that had already decided his path for him.

"Okay," he whispered, as if the word was both a promise and a question.

And in that moment, I knew that while we might not have all the answers yet, we had taken a step toward something real—something that wasn't built on expectations or masks, but on truth. The walls between us weren't gone, but they had started to crumble.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough. For now.