Chapter Three: Beneath The Surface
(Y/n's POV)
I arrive at the quaint little spot, a secluded clearing bordered by whispering trees, five minutes early. The atmosphere feels thick with anticipation, and I can't shake the nagging thought: "This better not be a trap." The cool breeze carries the scent of pine and earth, but it does little to calm the fluttering anxiety settled in my stomach. My voice breaks the stillness as I softly whisper to myself, "Where is he?" Just as I begin to wonder if I'm alone, I feel a warm, familiar presence behind me.
"Oh, my darling, it's not a trap," a smooth, velvety voice murmurs, sending a shiver down my spine. Before I can fully process his sudden appearance, Draco wraps his arms around me in a gentle embrace. His warmth surrounds me, and a delicious fluttering sensation blossoms in my stomach, causing my cheeks to flush a rosy pink.
"W-what d-did you want to meet me here about?" I stammer, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, each beat echoing in my ears.
"I just need to get something off my chest before a mud-blood does," he replies, his voice slightly shaky yet laced with sincerity. I pull away from the hug, my gaze locking with his striking gray eyes. The sight of his flushed face coupled with the intensity of the moment sends more butterflies thrumming wildly in my chest.
"Okay, go on," I encourage, my curiosity piqued, eager to hear what's weighing on him.
"I-I think I-I'm..." Draco begins, his voice faltering as he struggles to articulate the tumult of emotions swirling within him. The moment hangs delicately in the air, charged with anticipation, but then, abruptly, he's cut off.
"Y/n!" Harry Potter's voice bursts through the tranquil air, shattering the tension and yanking me back to reality.
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Hey it's me the author I just wanted the clarify something real quick.
Meanings:
y/n (your name or you)
n/n (nickname)
l/n (last name)
f/n (favorite name or just a name a certain someone calls you😏)
alright back to the story.
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(Draco's POV)
"Tsk... mud-blood," I mutter under my breath, feeling irritation bubble within me like boiling water. I take a half-step closer, my gaze fixated on Y/n, and my heart sinks as I drink in how stunning she looks beneath the dappled sunlight. Her hair catches the light, framing her face perfectly, and I feel an inexplicable urge to protect that beauty. Why on earth is she talking to him?
My curiosity overrides my resentment as I strain to catch their conversation, trying to decipher the nuances of her expression.
"Y/n L/n, I'm in love with you. Will you be my date to the ball?" Harry asks, his voice earnest and confident, yet it feels like nails on a chalkboard to my ears.
"..." Y/n's response hangs in the air, heavy with tension and indecision. I feel a pang of desperation as realization washes over me; crap, he beat me to it. What will she say? My pulse quickens, a cocktail of hope and fear swirling inside me as I wait for her answer, the stakes higher than ever.