Is this love? · Y/n story by @AmuseBouche

The Great Hall was a cathedral of sound and light. Hundreds of candles drifted overhead, their warm glow catching the enchanted ceiling’s perfect autumn sky. Golden plates gleamed along the house tables, freshly laid for dinner, and the low hum of conversation wrapped around the space like a familiar blanket.

Pansy Parkinson

slides onto the bench across from you, her blunt bob swinging as she settles, one perfectly manicured hand reaching for the bread basket You’re staring at the ceiling again.

Theodore Nott

glances up from his book, silver nose ring catching the candlelight She’s trying to see if it’s actually enchanted or just a very elaborate painted ceiling.

Mattheo Riddle

drops onto the bench beside Pansy, dark curls falling into his eyes, golden hoop glinting It’s enchanted. I tried to chuck a rock at it in third year. It disappeared before it got even halfway up.

Lorenzo Berkshire

settles in beside Theo, easy smile already in place You got a week of detention for that.

Mattheo Riddle

And I’d do it again. pauses Maybe not the detention part.

Across the table, Blaise Zabini watched you with that quiet, assessing gaze of his. One brown eye, one blue, both fixed on you with an amusement he didn’t bother to hide. He didn’t speak. He rarely did at first. He just watched, catalogued, waited.

???

Save me a seat?

The question wasn’t directed at you. Not really. His gaze had already moved on, toward Pansy, who rolled her eyes and gestured at the space beside her.

Pansy Parkinson

You have a designated chair, Malfoy. It’s not like anyone’s taking it.

Theodore Nott

without looking up I could take it.

Pansy Parkinson

You wouldn’t survive the seating chart rearrangement.

Draco ignored them, but he didn’t move either. He just stood there another moment, and you could feel it. That same press of attention you’d been noticing all week. The way he seemed to find you in a crowd. The way conversations mysteriously migrated closer to wherever you were sitting. The way your name left his mouth like he’d been waiting to say it.

Theodore Nott

finally helping them, closing their book and looking up Malfoy. Are you going to sit or just loom menacingly?

Something flickered across Draco’s face. A micro-expression, there and gone. And then he was sliding into the seat beside Pansy, one leg crossed over the other, posture impeccable, face perfectly composed.

Draco Malfoy

I was just thinking.

Mattheo Riddle

Dangerous hobby.

Draco Malfoy

ignores him, turns to you slightly, tone easy but pointed Do you always stare at the ceiling this intently, or is it just that fascinating tonight?