Draco

                                    

                                          



When Potter's fingers brushed mine my stomach started dancing. Why. I don't understand why. I hate him. I look angrily up at him. HOW DARE HE. He yanks his hand away and I feel my cheeks turn pink and I furiously turn away. 
                          
I watched him cautiously as he added ingredients into the glowing potion. The light from the potion reflected off his glasses highlighting his eyes. Before I knew it I was drowning in the emerald pool that was his eyes. He has these gold flecks in his eyes. If it wasn't  Harry Potter I would say I was attracted to his eyes. I must have lost my mind because seconds later he was calling my name trying to snap me out of my trance like state.
                          
"MALFOY!" he yells.
                          
"i- what?" , I stutter trying to regain myself.
                          
" Stir the potion will you", he says chuckling. 
                          
what am I doing?
                          
" yeah, yeah, okay whatever Potter"
                          
He's smirking. I hate his stupid smile. His smile makes him seem narcissistic and cocky. 
                          
We continue the potion in silence. We are almost finished when I see his nose crinkle.
                          
" What?", I ask.
                          
"The smell", he replies. 
                          
"What do you smell" I blurt out  before I can stop myself. I cringe at my obvious interest.
                          
He looks confused at my intrigue. 
                          
He nonchalantly says " Super strong cologne, and lemons."
                          
"That's weird" I instinctively say. 
                          
"Thanks" he says sarcastically "what do you smell" 
                          
I inhale deeply. The broom polish and treacle tart floats through the room. I wonder if I should tell him. He seems to have told the truth. What if he didn't. I could embarrasses myself. 
                          
"broom polish and treacle tart" I mumble. 
                          
"What" he laughs. "why would you dislike that? I love those smells"
                          
"Well it's not you who's smelling it" I snap. 
                          
He laughs again . I smile.  It's a nice moment. Until I remember that I hate him.
                          
"We have to add certain ingredients once a week for a month." He reads.
                          
His voice is deep, velvety, and certain.  It's rather nice.
                          
Gahh, I need to stop with that. It sounds like i'm in love with him.
                          
"should we meet once a week then?" I ask.
                          
"sure" he says coolly. 
                          
He gets up. Preparing to leave.
                          
" See you at quidditch" he mutters.
                          
Quidditch? Oh... yeah. The match... tomorrow. 
                          
I watch him leave. He walks slow, but with a purpose. 
                          
I yawn. It's late. I have a match. I need sleep.  
                          
Back in my dormitory I almost fall into my bed. I brush my teeth and stare at myself in the mirror. The skin around my eyes is dark and tired. I collapse into bed and fall into dreams.
                          
The room around me is dark. I hear crying. I turn around to see a tall  blond boy curled up in fear. He looks so familiar. I just can't seem to remember who he is. He's crying as some tall  tanned boy stands over him yelling about how no one could ever love the blond. The tall boy also looks really familiar. His messy dark colored hair makes me so furious. Who is he. The ravenette kept screaming as the blond sobbed. Watching the blonde I felt so empathetic. I could almost feel his pain personally. 
                          
 I woke up in a cold sweat. I groan. It's so early. I fall asleep again but it's dark and dreamless.