The classroom smelled faintly of dust and old parchment. Draco had dragged two mismatched chairs closer to the lantern, and for a moment it felt almost domestic — like they'd done this before, like this wasn't breaking every unwritten rule of their Houses.
Harry sat down across from him, but Draco immediately arched a brow."What are you doing way over there? I'll feel like I'm being interrogated."
Harry hesitated, then pushed his chair closer until their knees nearly brushed. The casualness of it surprised him. Draco didn't move away. In fact, he leaned back with a soft sigh, as though he'd been waiting for Harry to close the gap.
"You're braver than you look, Potter," Draco said lightly, but his voice lacked venom. It was almost teasing.
Harry smirked. "And you're softer than you pretend."
Draco shot him a sharp look, but Harry caught the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
They fell into silence, but not the strained kind. It was… comfortable. Draco conjured a cushion with a flick of his wand and tossed it at Harry. "Floor's warmer, if you're not too Gryffindor to sit."
Harry shrugged, dropped down, and leaned back against the wall. After a beat, Draco followed, lowering himself beside him with a grace Harry envied. Their shoulders brushed, a small touch that neither commented on.
For the first time that day, Harry let himself breathe. The pressure of pretending, of snarling and snapping in the halls, slipped away in the quiet.
"Do you ever think," Harry asked softly, staring at the glow of the lantern, "that maybe we don't have to keep this up forever?"
Draco didn't answer immediately. His head tilted toward Harry, just slightly, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret."If people knew, it would ruin both of us."
Harry turned his head, meeting his eyes in the half-light. "I didn't ask about them. I asked about us."
Draco's expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he let out a quiet breath. "Then… maybe."
And just like that, Harry felt the warmth of his presence settle deep inside him. Not rivalry, not hatred. Just maybe.
They didn't move apart. They didn't need to. The night stretched around them, a secret all their own.