Enemies By Day, Something Worse By Night

By day, Draco Malfoy looks at Y/N Potter like she's something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

And she looks at him like she'd rather swallow a fistful of Doxy venom than agree with a single word that leaves his stupid, perfect mouth.

They fight in corridors.
They snap at each other in class.
They are a war waiting to happen.

But at night...

When the castle is quiet and the torches burn low and prefect duty traps them in the same endless hallways, something changes.

It starts with silence that feels too loud.
With arguments that turn into whispers.
With tension so thick it could choke them both.

And then he kisses her.

It was supposed to mean nothing.
A mistake.
A lapse in judgment under the moonlight.

But it keeps happening.

In the dark, Draco touches her like she's something fragile.
Like she's something his.
Like he doesn't hate her at all.

And then morning comes.

And he goes back to looking at her like she's his greatest enemy.

Enemies by day.
Something worse by night.

Because pretending to hate each other is easy.

Pretending they don't feel anything?

That's the part that's killing them.