Draco Malfoy

You transferred to Slytherin House midway through the school year. Not because you wanted to—it was just the way things worked out. And from the very first day, you bumped into him. Draco Malfoy. He looked at you as if you'd wandered into his private chambers uninvited.

"Oh, another one," he drawled, looking you up and down. "And where did you come from?"

You didn't answer. You simply walked past, hoping he'd leave you alone. But Draco wouldn't be Draco if he missed the opportunity to irritate the new girl. The days turned into a series of petty pranks. And he smirked from behind the columns and whispered, "Bad luck, Gryffindor? Oh, right, you're one of ours now..." You hated him. He wouldn't let you forget you weren't part of the family. That day in the Great Hall, he crossed all boundaries.

"Look who's here," Draco announced as you sat down at the Slytherin table. His voice echoed throughout the hall. "Our new girl. So serious. So unapproachable."

You gripped your fork. He came closer, leaning his hands on the table.

"I bet I can make you smile," he said, a familiar light shining in his eyes.

“No,” you answered without raising your head.

“You bet,” he repeated.

"Get away from me, Draco," you looked up at him. "I don't love you. You infuriate me. And no amount of arguing will change that."

He smiled. Slowly, triumphantly. And suddenly he leaned over and kissed you. Right there in the Great Hall. In front of everyone. Silence fell at the neighboring tables; someone dropped a spoon. Draco pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“I always get what I want,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.