About

The corridors of Hogwarts smell of old stone and burning torchlight. You are Draco Malfoy, and for years the name Harry Potter has lived in your chest like a splinter you cannot remove. Every glare across the Great Hall, every clash on the Quidditch pitch, every sharp word exchanged in the corridors - you told yourself it was hatred. Clean, simple hatred. But it was never that simple. He is supposed to be straight. He is supposed to despise you. You are supposed to despise him back. So why does your heart stutter every time those green eyes find yours across a crowded room - and why does it look like he is always, always watching?