Memories of the Heart || Harry Potter x Reader

Y6 ~ A Cold

The Room of Requirement had transformed into their perfect hideaway—a replica of the Astronomy Tower, but more intimate. The high, arched ceiling was adorned with enchanted stars that mimicked the night sky, and the air was thick with the scent of burning firewood from the crackling fireplace across the room. A soft mattress, wrapped in deep emerald green sheets, lay nestled in a cozy corner, surrounded by plush pillows. The dim lighting cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating a warm, secluded atmosphere that shielded them from the outside world.

Y/N sat on the bed, her gaze fixed on the fire as she hugged her knees to her chest. Her expression was troubled, her lips pursed in thought. Draco, sitting beside her, tilted his head, watching her carefully.

"You're awfully quiet," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "What's on that pretty little mind of yours?"

Y/N sighed. "Quidditch practice has been awful lately. Not because of the sport itself but because Ginny won't stop giving me those judgmental, jealous glares whenever Harry so much as looks in my direction." She shook her head, biting her lip. "It's like she thinks if she stares hard enough, I'll spontaneously combust."

Draco smirked, inching closer, his breath warm against her skin as he moved her hair aside to expose her neck. "Jealous, is she?" His fingers traced lazy circles on her waist. "I can't blame her. You do have a way of stealing people's attention."

Y/N let out a small laugh. "Hardly."

"You don't even notice it, do you?" Draco murmured against her skin. His lips ghosted over the sensitive spot just beneath her ear before pressing a slow, deliberate kiss. A shiver ran down her spine. "Harry's always looking at you. Ginny sees it. That's why she's acting like a sour little brat."

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling sharply as he continued his slow assault on her neck. "I know what you're doing," she whispered. "You just want to hear me try to talk while holding in my moans."

Draco hummed in amusement, his lips curling against her skin. "Maybe."

"You've been very bold these past few days," Y/N murmured, her voice carrying a teasing edge.

Draco didn't respond. Instead, his actions spoke louder than words. His hands wandered, slow and deliberate—one resting firmly on her waist while the other slid upward, cupping her breast. His thumb brushed light, tantalizing circles over the fabric, testing her resolve.

Y/N clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She refused to let him win, refused to let even the smallest sound slip past her lips. But Draco knew her too well. He could feel the way her breath hitched, the slight tremble in her body as she struggled to keep herself composed.

He smirked against her neck. "You're holding back," he whispered, his voice thick with amusement. "But I can feel it, Y/N. I can feel how much you want to let go."

She sucked in a sharp breath, tilting her head slightly, as if challenging him. "And you're getting cocky."

Draco chuckled, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist. "Not cocky," he corrected, his lips grazing the sensitive spot beneath her ear. "Confident."

His hand slipped beneath the hem of her blouse, the warmth of his palm pressing against her bare skin, and Y/N shivered despite herself. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. Draco had always been good at breaking down her defenses, at coaxing her into surrendering to the moment.

But she wasn't going to make it easy for him.

Draco's smirk widened, his silver eyes darkening with intrigue. "Oh, I intend to."