Chapter: Sudden Eyes

The early morning sun cast a soft golden haze through the tall windows of the Slytherin girls' dormitory. Maddie stirred gently beneath the heavy green-and-silver trimmed blankets. She always awoke before most — not out of duty, but habit. There was something grounding in having a slow, quiet start, even in a castle full of magic and mystery.

She slid out of bed, toes brushing against the cool stone floor, and began to tidy her space. Her sheets were smoothed, pillows fluffed, and her trunk gently shut after she picked out her day's outfit. Her long sleeve shirt with a skirt was neatly ironed, wand tucked into the inner pocket of the shirt, and her hair—always parted down the middle—fell into soft curled ends as she quickly twisted and released it from last night's braid.

Once dressed, she crossed the echoing corridors toward the library, books and parchment under her arm. The sun hadn't yet reached its peak, and the castle felt suspended in a hush — peaceful, magical. Inside the library, she found her familiar corner by the tall window, where she pulled out a thick tome on defensive enchantments and settled into study.

Still, her mind wandered.

The Restricted Section.She glanced over at it from behind her book.She'd never been inside during daylight hours — not unless she had an excuse. But last night's near-miss still danced in her thoughts. She hadn't gotten the book yet. The one on wandless magic. She needed it — wanted it.

Her fingers touched the key inside her pocket. She could almost hear her father's voice in the memory:

"This old thing? I borrowed and never gave it back. It's yours now. One day you'll need it more than i ever did"

Maddie blinked, the words echoing in her chest. She tucked the key deeper into her pocket, brushing off the memory, and returned to her reading.

By the time the noon bells chimed across the castle, she returned to her dorm to freshen up. Today she was meant to assist Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. Maddie washed her hands, dabbed a bit of lavender oil behind her ears, and adjusted her skirt once more.

As she turned to leave, a soft tapping came at her window.

" Jacques?" she smiled.

Her owl — small, charcoal-grey, and proud — sat on the ledge with a letter tied to his leg. Maddie opened the latch, let him in, and gently untied the parchment.

"From Mum," she murmured, petting his feathery head with two fingers. He hooted softly, pleased, and pecked at a leftover owl treat she kept by her bed.

As she walked through the halls toward the hospital wing, she read the letter slowly:

"Sweetheart,Hope you're sleeping and eating well. Please don't spend all your nights patrolling or buried in books... I know you.It's quieter here at home. The garden misses you.Love you always — Maman."

Maddie smiled. The familiar scrawl, the scent of lilac from the paper — it warmed her in a way no spell could.

As she rounded the corner by the courtyard arch, lost in the words, she barely noticed the footsteps thundering toward her until—

Wham!

Three Slytherin boys — older, taller — sprinted past in a blur of dark green robes. One brushed her shoulder, but another fully collided into her, knocking the wind out of her chest as they tumbled to the ground.

"Ow—what the—" she gasped, blinking fast.

The two other boys didn't even look back as they vanished around the corner.

But the one still on the floor?

Draco Malfoy.

He groaned, one hand pressed to his face. She noticed it instantly — a thin trickle of blood running from his nose.

"Oh no," she whispered, quickly pushing herself up and kneeling beside him. "Are you okay? Did I—did I hurt you?"

Draco opened his eyes, dazed.

And then he stared.

Not at the blood. Not at the pain. But at her.

At her face framed by soft curls, parted perfectly down the middle. At her skin, gently flushed, and at her slim fingers dusted in ink and adorned with a fresh French manicure. There was something about her eyes — thoughtful, startled, kind — that seemed to hold him frozen.

"I—" he mumbled, dazed.

She ignored it. "Let me help," Maddie said softly, her hand closing around his.

He didn't resist.

He didn't say anything, in fact — just let her lead him by the hand through the stone corridors, blood trickling slowly down his upper lip, his mind spinning for reasons that had little to do with injury.

Maddie glanced up at him now and then, her own cheeks pink, trying not to think about how warm his hand was in hers or how long his lashes looked up close.

She'd always found Malfoy arrogant. But right now, he looked very human.

Vulnerable, even.

When they reached the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey took one glance at Draco's face and tutted loudly, ushering him inside. Maddie apologised for being a bit late but explained quickly what had happened, and quickly got to work labelling potion bottles.

Draco watched her as he sat quietly on the hospital bed, the white sheets crisp beneath his palms, the sterile scent of healing potions clinging to the air. Madam Pomfrey inspected the side of his face, gently tilting his chin toward the light with a disapproving click of her tongue.

"Minor bruising. A bit of swelling," she muttered, already bustling toward the small wooden cabinet. "Maddie, dear, would you mind applying the crushed thistle root cream while I fetch the powdered dittany?"

Maddie nodded, the curls at the ends of her hair bouncing lightly as she walked over. Her fingers brushed against the jar on the nearby table, cool glass in her palm. She unscrewed the lid with the soft pop of a vacuum seal breaking, and the faint scent of mint and earth rose from the cream.

Draco said nothing. He didn't move.

But he watched her.

She stood in the golden light from the window, backlit by the dusky warmth of the afternoon. Her eyes were calm and deliberate as she dipped her fingers into the pale mixture. Her nails — short, elegant, shaped into a French tip — shimmered faintly under the light.

She stepped closer.

He sat still.

"Hold still," she said quietly, not meeting his gaze. She reached up, the pad of her finger gently brushing across his cheekbone as she applied the salve. Her touch was light, professional — but warm. The kind of warmth he wasn't used to. Not from someone like her.

Maddie could feel the heat blooming in her cheeks. She focused on the cream, on the way it settled into his skin, on the way his pale hair fell just slightly into his eyes.

Draco didn't look away.

She was too close for him to pretend not to notice the small details — the faint smell of lavender and old parchment on her robes, the curve of her mouth as she concentrated, the way her lashes fluttered with every breath.

"Are you alright?" she finally asked, her voice soft and genuine. She looked up, finally — and he was already looking back.

For a moment, they just stared.

There was no hospital wing.

No bruises.

No Slytherin boys running off.

Just the space between them, small and charged and breathless.

"I've had worse," Draco said, voice a little hoarse. "But... I'm not complaining."

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she quickly looked down, closing the jar.

"You're lucky it wasn't worse," she murmured, reaching for a cloth to wipe her fingers. "You hit the ground pretty hard."

Draco tilted his head, eyes not leaving her. "You worried about me?"

She paused. Glanced at him.

"I'm a volunteer," she said, noncommittally. But the flush on her neck said otherwise.

He smirked, just a little — a rare, genuine curl of his lips, not the usual sharp-edged smirk. "Right."

Madam Pomfrey returned with a tray and a hum. "All done, Maddie? Good work, dear. I'll finish up from here. Mr. Malfoy, don't let your pride get in the way of common sense. Next time, try not to be flattened in the corridor."

Draco rolled his eyes faintly but didn't say anything.

Maddie stepped back, murmuring a quick "Feel better," before turning to leave. But before she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder.

Draco was still watching her.

She smiled — small, fleeting, but real.

And then she was gone.

Draco exhaled slowly, rubbing the cream gently into his skin as Madam Pomfrey spoke in the background. But his mind wasn't on her instructions.

It was on her fingertips.And the way she'd said his name.He had this felling in him that he liked..

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Quick update!!!!!