twelve : KISS THE ENEMY

chapter xii : kiss the enemy

"i'm in love with you."

SUNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH THE WINDOWS of the dormitory, casting soft golden lines across Valerie's emerald green bedsheets. She was warm. Comfy. Too comfy, really — and it took her a moment to remember why. Draco's bed. His arm around her, the night before. His voice low and honest in the dark — "No one's ever made me feel like this before." Her cheeks flushed instantly at the memory. The kiss. The bracelet — still clasped around her wrist, glinting in the soft morning light. Ancient gold. Heavy with meaning.

They stayed there, curled up together — whispering into the night like they were trying to make time stop. At one point, they talked about what their favorite sweets were. He said black liquorice was disgusting. She said she liked them just to argue.

It was — she grinned into her pillow — perfect.

"Look who's finally awake," Came a voice, sing-song and far too pleased with itself.

Valerie opened one eye to see Ivory Davis sitting cross-legged on her bed, already dressed and brushing out her long black hair. She raised a brow, eyeing Valerie's flushed face knowingly.

"You have that look," Ivory teased.

"What look?"

"The 'I-spent-the-night-talking-to-my-boyfriend-in-his-bed-and-now-my-life-is-in-a-draco-malfoy-fanfiction' look."

Valerie groaned and buried her face in her pillow.

From the bathroom, Daphne's voice rang out, singing completely off-key to the song You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.

"I think she's still dreaming about Neville," Ivory stage-whispered.

Valerie lifted her head, laughing. "She really likes him."

"Obviously." Ivory's voice softened. "So... do you like him too? Draco?"

Valerie hesitated — then glanced at her wrist.

The bracelet shimmered in the light.

"Yeah," She said quietly. "I really do."

Just then, the door slammed open.

"GIRLS!" Eric Lewis swept in, still in his pink silk pyjamas, "I need DETAILS, I need SCANDAL, I need—oh."

He stopped when he saw Valerie sitting up in bed, her hair messy, a dreamy look on her face.

Eric squealed.

Valerie tossed a pillow at him, but she was laughing.

He flopped on the edge of her bed. "Spill."

Before she could answer, the bathroom door opened and Daphne danced out, towel in her orange hair. "Wait—what are we spilling?"

"Valerie spending the night with Draco," Eric grinned.

Daphne gasped. "You spent the night together?!"

Valerie lifted her hands. "Just talking! I came back here for bed time!"

That didn't stop the group from collectively shrieking. Even Miranda, still in bed with a blanket over her head, muttered, "That's nice," before turning over and going right back to sleep.

It was chaos, warmth, and glitter — the way only post-Yule Ball mornings at Hogwarts could be.

But it didn't last long.

Millicent Bulstrode walked in with her daily cup of coffee. She held up something in her other hand.

A rolled-up copy of The Daily Prophet.

"Look," She said flatly. "Front page."

Valerie took it from her, heart already sinking.

The headline screamed in thick black letters:

HALF-BLOOD VALERIE POTTER SNAGS A MALFOY?

"The pair were seen cozying up at the Yule Ball — but is this love, or a calculated play for power? Sources say Potter has a history of clinging to the spotlight."

Rita Skeeter reports from the Yule Ball

Underneath, a moving photo of Valerie and Draco, holding hands, eyes on each other like no one else existed.

For a second, Valerie's breath caught in her throat.

It should've been something to smile at. Something soft. But instead—

Her stomach dropped.

She could feel what this meant. Not for her — but for Draco.

Millicent frowned. "That's... not gonna sit well with his family."

Valerie looked down at the photo again. Draco, smiling — a rare, real smile.

And suddenly, the morning felt colder than it had before.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

VALERIE POTTER DRESSED SLOWER THAN USUAL this morning. She ditched the sleek eyeliner look she used to wear like armour. Today, she wanted to feel... soft. Feminine. She wore a light pink sweater, the same shade as her Yule Ball dress. The gold bracelet Draco had given her was still around her wrist — catching glints of light every time she moved.

She looked in the mirror and smiled faintly.

This was her.

When she entered the Slytherin common room, it was quiet. A few students were still groggy from the night before. Draco was standing by the fireplace, bathed in the soft green glow of the lake-filtered light. His eyes landed on her immediately — and he smiled.

"Morning,"  He said, stepping toward her. His hand brushed hers, then he leaned down and kissed her cheek — gently, like it was already habit. "You look so pretty."

Valerie flushed, tucking her black hair behind her ear. "Thank you," She murmured.

"Pink suits you," He added, still holding her hand.

As they walked to the Great hall together, Valerie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, from Draco's right arm resting so comfortably over her shoulders. He was impossibly hot, and the casual intimacy of his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

A mischievous grin spread across Draco's face, his grey eyes twinkling as he leaned in close to her ear. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," He whispered, the conspiratorial tone making her heart flutter. "Remember that anonymous texter? The one that's been bothering you since the Quidditch World Cup?"

Valerie looked at him, completely bewildered, and nodded slowly.

He just grinned wider. "It was me."

Valerie stopped in her tracks, her mouth slightly agape in shock. It all made sense now. "You? But... why?"

"I was worried," He admitted, his voice softening, the grin still there but now laced with genuine affection. "After hell broke loose at the World Cup, I had to make sure you were okay. I got your number from Bulstrode."

He had been looking out for her all along. The new knowledge was a heavy, intoxicating secret, one that felt like a beautiful promise.

When the new couple arrived at the Great Hall, now holding hands, they could feel the stares, the whispers and the shift in the air. People craned their necks to look. A group of Ravenclaws openly gawked. Someone dropped a spoon. Claudia Selwyn looked like she had eaten a lemon.

Rumours were already flying. She could practically hear them.

But Draco didn't let go of her hand.

Not once.

They sat side-by-side at the Slytherin table. The enchanted ceiling was cloudy and cold, casting soft grey light over the spread of eggs, toast, and steaming hot chocolate. Valerie poured herself some apple juice, trying to ignore the way Pansy Parkinson was whispering furiously two seats down.

And then — the owls came.

A flurry of feathers swept into the Hall, letters and packages falling in practiced deliveries. One landed in front of Millicent with a gentle plop. Another — a bright pink envelope from Daphne's mum — made her squeal softly with joy.

Then—

Thud.

A thick scarlet envelope slammed down in front of Draco.

Everyone at the Slytherin table went still.

Smoke was already curling from its edges.

Draco's eyes narrowed.

He didn't speak. Didn't move.

Valerie stared at the letter, her gut twisting.

She recognised it, a memory from Ron Weasley receiving one in second year.

A Howler.

"No—" She began.

Too late.

The letter burst open.

"DRACO FUCKING MALFOY!"

The voice of Lucius rang out like a thunderclap — cold, sharp, furious. Every head in the Great Hall turned.

"YOU BETTER BE DOING THIS TO GAIN HER TRUST. TO FIND OUT INFORMATION."

Gasps. A fork clattered to the floor somewhere.

Valerie froze.

"YOU KNOW WHAT SHE IS. WHAT HER BLOOD IS. DO NOT THINK FOR A MOMENT THAT YOU CAN DISGRACE THIS FAMILY NAME OVER A FILTHY HALF-BLOOD GIRL."

The envelope shriveled, curled, and disintegrated into ash.

The hall was deathly silent.

Draco didn't say a word. He didn't even flinch. But Valerie noticed how tightly his fists were clenched on the table, how his shoulders had gone rigid.

She looked down the table.

No owl. No letter. No sweets from his mother Narcissa.

For the first time in four years, nothing had come from her.

Valerie reached under the table and gently touched his hand. Draco didn't look at her right away, but he didn't pull away either. When he finally turned his head, his grey eyes were clouded.

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

He exhaled slowly. "He thinks I'm using you."

Her heart squeezed. "Are you?"

That finally made him meet her gaze fully.

"No," He said firmly. "I'm in love with you."

A pause. She gave a quiet nod. Then added, more softly:

"I told the girls this morning that we're official."

Draco blinked — and then, despite everything, the corner of his mouth lifted. "Did they scream?"

"Obviously."

He smiled faintly — but it didn't reach his eyes.

Valerie squeezed his hand under the table. "Let's get out of here."

The days blurred by in a quiet kind of whirlwind. January passed in a flurry of early mornings and late-night study sessions, of the golden egg screeching open and Valerie's mounting anxiety about the Second Task. But somewhere in the middle of it all, a strange and steady rhythm began to form — one that had Draco in it.

They were... official now. The word made her stomach flip every time she thought it. And not in a bad way.

They sat together at meals. Walked to class with fingers brushed, then intertwined. There were rumours, of course — mostly from the pure-blood circles, muttered and sharp — but Draco didn't seem to care. If anything, he was bolder now. Smiling in public. Touching her hand. Saying her name like it tasted good in his mouth.

As for the pressure from his family?

Out of sight, out of mind.

He never mentioned Lucius' letter. Valerie never brought it up. Narcissa still hadn't written.

It hung between them, quiet but ever-present — and Valerie could feel it, even now, as they walked the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade together.

They were strolling past Honeydukes, her pink mittened hand tucked into his black gloved one, and he was in one of those moods.

"I'm getting you something from every shop," Draco announced.

"You've already gotten me something from every shop," Valerie laughed. "Twice."

"—That just means I'm consistent."

She shook her head as they passed a cart selling rose-chocolates. Draco paused to eye them. "You like roses?"

"I like you not spending fifty galleons on sugar, thanks."

He grinned. "So that's a yes."

"Draco."

"I'm spoiling you. Let me spoil you."

"You really don't need to," Valerie said, tugging gently on his arm. "I already feel like I'm dating a prince."

"Good," He said. "Because you are."

She groaned. "You do realise I'm not a Pygmy Puff, right? You can't just collect me."

Draco turned to her, serious. "If I could shrink you and keep you in my pocket, I would."

Valerie blinked. "... That's probably the creepiest and most romantic thing you've ever said."

He smirked and kissed her forehead.

They reached the next storefront — a little antique shop with dusty crystal balls and old-timey jewelry in the window. Valerie paused in front of it, eyes catching on a delicate gold hairpin shaped like a crescent moon. She leaned in for just a moment to look.

Draco made a mental note. The second she stepped inside the bakery next door, he slipped away and bought it.

When he returned, a warm paper bag in hand, she handed him a tiny apple tart and said nothing about the disappearance.

They sat together later on a bench outside, sipping warm drinks and watching the snow fall. Valerie glanced at Draco, who was uncharacteristically quiet, thumb absently smoothing over her mittened knuckles.

"... Still nothing from your mum?" She asked gently.

He stiffened just a little — not in anger, but pain.

"No." His voice was low. "She used to write every Sunday. She hasn't written since Christmas."

Valerie's heart tugged.

Narcissa had always been the parent he leaned toward — the one he confided in, the one he trusted. Her silence, more than his father's threats, seemed to be the thing eating at him.

"I'm sorry," Valerie said, and she meant it.

Draco didn't reply. He just stared out over the street, pale brows furrowed.

Valerie squeezed his hand.

"You're not alone," She said quietly.

He looked at her then, grey eyes softer than she'd ever seen them.

"No," He said. "I'm not."

He kissed her then, warm and slow, as snowflakes melted against his cheek.

And for a moment — just a moment — the world outside didn't matter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

THE LIBRARY WAS COLD AT NIGHT. Not freezing — just Hogwarts-cold. That quiet, slightly eerie kind of cold that made the candles flicker and the shadows look longer than they should. Valerie sat curled up at a massive table in the back corner, surrounded by parchment and open books. Her black hair was up in a messy claw clip, her Slytherin sweater sleeves pulled over her hands.

Across from her, Hermione was scribbling notes furiously while muttering under her breath. Eric was lying flat on the floor between two armchairs, moaning, "I'm too pretty to be this stressed." Ron was snoring, face-down on a textbook.

Draco, of course, was still upright, skimming through a thick volume titled Underwater Transfiguration: Fact or Fantasy? with his usual calm detachment.

It had been three hours since Valerie opened the golden egg in the Prefects' bathroom and submerged it under water — just like Cedric Diggory had hinted. The screeching had stopped, and a new, echoing voice had spoken.

Come seek us where our voices sound..

We cannot sing above the ground..

An hour long you'll have to look..

To recover what we took...

"I still don't get it," Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair. "To recover what we took? What are they taking? A family member? A friend? That's dark."

"They're not going to drown them, right?" Eric asked, horrified.

"Focus," Hermione snapped. "We need to figure out how she's going to breathe underwater for a full hour. Nothing in this spellbook even comes close."

"I'm tempted to just transfigure myself," Valerie said, flopping dramatically against Draco's shoulder. "Turn me into a mermaid, I don't care."

Draco didn't even blink. "That'd be a waste. I like your legs."

Eric made a scandalised sound.

Hermione sighed like she had a permanent headache. "There's got to be something in magical plants or potions. Or—oh, maybe an artifact—"

Just then, Valerie's phone started ringing.

The name Daphne 🧚‍♀️ blinked on the screen.

She pressed accept and put it on speaker. "Hey Daph,"

"Hi, love," Daphne's voice chimed sweetly, "Just checking on you. I heard from Eric you were having a panic night."

Valerie gave a tired smile. "Something like that. I'm trying to figure out how to survive being underwater for an hour."

"Oh..."

There was a rustling sound on the other end. Then another voice — soft, sleepy, unmistakably Neville Longbottom — spoke up in the background:

"She can always use Gillyweed."

Silence.

Complete silence.

Valerie sat bolt upright. "Wait. WHAT did he just say?"

There was a pause. Then Daphne said brightly: "Gillyweed! It's a plant. Neville says it lets you grow gills and swim underwater."

Hermione slammed her hand on the table. "OF COURSE. WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?!"

She immediately started flipping madly through a Herbology text. Draco raised his eyebrows. Ron jolted awake and blinked blearily.

Eric sat up like he had been reborn. "Gillyweed?! That sounds cute. I want some."

"Focus!" Hermione hissed. "Valerie needs it for the Second Task!"

Valerie stared at her phone. "Daphne. You're a lifesaver"

On the other end, Daphne giggled. "Neville's the real genius. I just happen to date him."

"Please thank him for me. A lot."

"—I will. Go win the tournament, babes."

The sky was overcast, the cold biting at Valerie's cheeks like tiny knives. Her breath curled in the air as she stood at the edge of the crowd, nerves chewing at her stomach like fireflies. "Val," Ron's voice broke through the fog, walking up beside her, "Hermione probably already made her way to the stands, yeah?"

Valerie didn't register it at first. She was too busy scanning the crowd.

Where was he?

She had waited in the Slytherin common room that morning. Sat by the fireplace in her soft Slytherin jumper, heart racing. She always met Draco in the mornings.

But today... nothing.

Not a single sign of him.

She gripped the sleeve of her coat tighter.

"Maybe he overslept," Eric offered gently, appearing on her other side. "You know he's not a morning person. That boy could sleep through a fire alarm."

"He's not in the castle," Valerie said softly. "I checked."

Harry turned, eyebrows drawn in concern. "Did you have a fight?"

"No," She whispered. "Not at all. Last night he hugged and kissed me goodnight and said he'd see me in the morning."

Something deep inside her — a thread, a knot — pulled tight.

Harry felt it too. Twin instincts. He didn't speak, but his eyes flicked to her with something more than concern.

He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It'll be okay," He said quietly. "You've got this."

Valerie munched on the gillyweed grimly. She stood in the centre of the wooden platform, surrounded by the other champions. A freezing wind howled across the Black Lake. Her swimsuit was identical in design to Fleur's sleek silver one — but Valerie's was unmistakably Slytherin: deep green.

She wrapped her arms around herself. It was so cold.

And yet all she could think about was him.

Where was her boyfriend?

He wasn't in the common room this morning. Not on the walk down. Not in the crowd. Not for breakfast. Not even a glimpse. This was one of the most important — terrifying — days of her life. And he was just... gone.

Valerie clenched her jaw, trying not to let it show. It still stung. Even with the nerves, the adrenaline, the sheer pressure of what she was about to do — her heart ached in a way she hadn't expected.

A roar from the crowd made her glance up.

In the front row of the stands, her friends were waving a massive enchanted banner that shimmered silver and green in the sunlight:

✧˖° VALERIE POTTER OUR CHAMPION! ✧˖°

Millicent was holding it steady while sipping a hot drink (obviously coffee), Daphne was bouncing on her heels with green glitter on her cheeks, Ivory was wearing two scarves and already crying from worry, Eric was blowing kisses at her, and Miranda was clapping while chanting as loud as she could.

Valerie managed a small smile.

They believed in her. Even if she didn't believe in herself right now.

Still — her brown eyes searched the stands.

No platinum blonde head. No grey eyes. Nothing.

A knot twisted in her chest.

She turned her head — and found Harry behind her. When he noticed her looking, he gave her a small, quiet thumbs-up.

His twin. His mirror.

Valerie nodded back, heart hammering, and gave him a weak smile.

Her eyes drifted downward — the surface of the Black Lake rippled dark and endless below them.

BOOM.

The cannon fired.

Cheers erupted.

Valerie hesitated for only a heartbeat — then clenched her fists, took one last shaky breath, and jumped.

The lake was colder than she thought it would be.

Not just cold — bone-deep cold. A still, creeping cold that seeped under her skin and curled into her lungs like ice.

Valerie opened her eyes slowly.

The world had gone green and grey, everything muted and distorted. Bubbles floated upward around her, shimmering like ghosts. Her hair fanned behind her, long black strands drifting like ink.

She kicked forward.

Gills fluttered at her neck, and her hands — now webbed — moved easily through the water. The Gillyweed was working.

But it didn't make the fear stop.

It was so quiet down here.

Too quiet.

She passed jagged stones, thick strands of lakeweed brushing against her legs.

She kept swimming.

Every stroke forward made her chest tighten a little more. Her arms were starting to ache. There was no sign of anyone. Just the dark, endless water.

What if I'm lost?

What if I'm swimming in the wrong direction?

What if I can't—

Then she saw them.

A group of shadowy figures just ahead, floating.

Valerie's pulse leapt.

She pushed forward, faster now, kicking hard. The water resisted like it didn't want to let her through.

As she got closer, the figures sharpened into focus — four people, bound by thick strands of magical weed, hanging still and silent like dolls.

Her eyes scanned them wildly.

Hermione. Cho Chang. Gabrielle Delacour. And—

Her heart stopped.

Draco.

Tethered gently at the far edge, head tilted slightly, as if asleep.

Valerie swam toward him, vision stinging. His blond hair floated around his face like moonlight. His expression was peaceful — too peaceful. He looked like a painting. Like he belonged to the lake.

He didn't come because he knew.

He hadn't vanished. He hadn't overslept. He had been taken.

She reached for him, her hands shaking underwater. The magical bindings pulsed with soft light, repelling her grip.

Valerie clenched her jaw, tears mixing with the water around her eyes.

She tried again.

And again.

The third time, she dug her fingers into the knot with everything she had, and the weed loosened just slightly.

Draco didn't stir.

He looked so still.

Valerie's throat burned.

She wanted to scream.

But all she could do was keep trying.

Her pale fingers clawed again at the magical weed, heart pounding in her chest like a drum. Draco didn't move. His pale skin looked like porcelain in the green murk.

Then—

A flash of light cut through the water.

A jet of silver shot past her.

The weed wrapped around Cho Chang snapped apart with a jolt. Valerie whipped her head toward the source.

Cedric Diggory.

He was already beside Cho, checking her quickly before giving Valerie a sharp look. He tapped his watch, made a sweeping motion with his hand — hurry up — and then turned and kicked off through the water, sleek and strong as an arrow.

Valerie blinked after him.

Right.

The wand.

She had it in her grip this whole time!

Idiot, she cursed herself.

The panic had scrambled her brain.

She pointed it shakily at the strands holding Draco. "Diffindo!"

The magical weed split apart with a violent snap.

Draco slumped into her arms, weightless but heavy in her chest.

"Come on," She whispered, her voice just bubbles in the water. She gripped his hand tightly, the familiar shape of it grounding her more than any spell ever could.

Valerie swam.

She kicked hard, slicing through the water with every bit of strength she had left. Her lungs didn't hurt — thanks to the gills — but her arms did. Her legs did. Her chest did. The cold gnawed at her fingers and toes, her teeth clenching with effort.

She glanced back once to make sure Draco was still there.

Still unconscious. But still with her.

The lake began to lighten.

Shapes formed above — movement, silhouettes, people.

Valerie kept swimming.

Her legs burned.

Just a little farther.

And then — with a gasp and a crash — she broke the surface.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

did anyone else wanted to be a mermaid as a child ?

(fact : ariel is my favourite disney princess !!)

IT WAS MY DREAM TO BE A MERMAID !!

i've always wanted to buy those crazy expensive mermaid tails you can wear in the pools, I WANTED IT SO BAD even though i didn't even have a pool at my house LOL — my mum said no 😣💔 my dreams were crushedddd

we made it 🧜‍♀️ chapter twelve!!

— originally it was eric lewis who valerie potter had to save from the black lake! but i changed it to draco malfoy as i was re-reading my story and i came across a comment from someone saying they wished it was draco instead. & i was like hmmm thats actually a good idea!! —

also .... the next chapter will be be the last part to goblet of fire !!!

(i'm screaming, crying, holding Draco gently)

as always, thank you for reading.

🩵 please leave a vote if you enjoy my story 🩵

word count : 4,080