Day 5 - "Flirt Like a Feral Peacock"

By the time breakfast rolled around, Ches had brewed a full pot of vengeance with two spoons of spite and zero sugar.

She sat hunched at the Gryffindor table, stabbing her eggs like they owed her money, her "Draco's #1 Fan" badge tossed face-down beside her toast. The "Future Mrs. Malfoy" one? Still glowing from last night's shame.

Talia cautiously nudged a mug of coffee toward her.

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

Ches didn't look up. "I spent three hours designing a fake wedding invitation with a howler hidden inside."

Talia blinked. "That sounds... unhinged."

"Thank you."

"You meant it as a threat, didn't you."

"Correct."

She took a very aggressive bite of toast, eyes narrowed at the Slytherin table. No sign of Draco yet. Probably still in his dorm, taking a victory lap around his mirror for whatever facial expression combo he'd used to annihilate her with a wink.

The wink.The line.The way he just... walked off like he hadn't shattered the entire infrastructure of her emotional defenses.She was unwell.

Talia leaned in. "Are you okay?"

"No," Ches said flatly. "I've been emotionally compromised by a smirk and a cinnamon-scented war criminal. It's time for revenge."

"You can't keep calling him a war criminal. He's not even in a student council."

"Oh, I can, and I will."

She pulled out her notebook — Operation: Lose the Snake — and opened to a fresh page.

Across the top she scrawled:Phase Two: Flirt Like a Feral Peacock

Talia glanced at it, then at her. "Do I want to know what that means?"

"No one does," Ches muttered. "That's the point."

▕⃝⃤ 9¾

By the second cup of coffee, Talia had stopped asking questions and simply accepted that Ches was spiraling.

By the third, she began actively encouraging it.

"I mean, if we're committing to the bit," Talia said, watching Ches scribble furiously in her notebook, "you might as well lean into the full mental breakdown aesthetic."

"Exactly," Ches said without looking up. "He flirts like a prince in a fairytale. I'm going to flirt like I was raised in the forest by frogs."

Talia nodded solemnly. "Unhinged. Dangerous. Beautiful."

Ches tapped her quill to her chin. "Okay. Options for Phase Two..."

She flipped the notebook around to show Talia a bulleted list. It read:

Make prolonged eye contact across a crowded roomDrop quill. Ask him to pick it up. Wink. Drop it again. Repeat until cursed.Accidentally-on-purpose brush his hand and gasp like we touched soulsLick my spoon during lunch and maintain eye contactSay "oops" then walk away dramatically without explanation

"I—" Talia choked on her juice. "That's not flirting. That's a cry for help."

"That's what makes it effective." Ches grinned.

She'd been up all night mentally replaying The Wink™. The way his voice dropped. The way he didn't even laugh after saying See you tomorrow, Mrs. Malfoy — like he meant it.

He doesn't. He's just playing.

Just like you are....Right?

Ches shook it off.

He wanted to play games? Fine.

She was done throwing glitter.

It was time to throw herself.

Dramatically.

With eye contact.

"Do you think it's too much if I wear a shirt with his face on it?" she asked suddenly.

"Yes," Talia said.

"But hear me out—"

"No."

Ches sighed, snapping the notebook closed and stuffing her badge collection back into her bag. "Fine. No shirts. But Phase Two is officially locked and loaded."

She stood.

Talia looked up at her, half-worried, half-impressed. "You good?"

"No," Ches said. "I'm dangerous."

The courtyard buzzed with midday chatter — books fluttered open under half-cast levitation spells, laughter spilled from the stone benches, and someone was definitely using a self-heating charm on a sausage roll. It was the sweet spot between classes where chaos and hormones ran free.

Draco Malfoy stood like a scenic threat near the fountain, dressed in house colors and the casual arrogance of someone who knew he looked good from every angle. One ankle crossed over the other, arms folded, head tilted in idle conversation with Blaise and Theo — his posture screaming, I'm not trying, but I am winning.

And of course, the wind was being unnecessarily flattering to his hair.

Ches spotted him instantly.

Target acquired. Ego level: excessive. Smugness: concentrated. Time to deploy chaos.

Talia nudged her gently. "You don't have to do this right now. There are people. He's got backup."

Ches's gaze didn't waver. "Perfect."

"You could wait until after class, or lunch, or when your brain isn't—"

"I have never been more ready," Ches whispered, cracking her neck like she was about to enter a duel.

And before Talia could physically tackle her to the ground, Ches strode forward — each step deliberate, boots clicking against stone like the buildup to a magical girl transformation.

As she approached, Draco's head turned toward her. Their eyes met.

His smirk began — slow and devastating — just as her fingers brushed against his hand.

A whisper of contact.

Intentional.

Soft.

Draco blinked down at the point of contact.

And Ches—bless her chaotic soul—gasped.

A soft, sharp inhale that punched the air from her lungs like she'd just touched a horcrux made of sexual tension.

Everyone went still.

Draco's brow furrowed slightly, his fingers twitching like he wasn't sure whether to pull back or... hold on.

"You felt that, right?" Ches asked breathlessly, taking a tiny, shaky step back.

He blinked. "Felt what?"

She stared at him like he'd just insulted her great-grandmother.

"The spark."Her voice was reverent. "I think... our souls just touched."

Blaise made a choked dying noise.

Someone two feet away muttered, "What the actual—"

Draco opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

She wasn't done.

"Don't freak out," she whispered, eyes wide. "I wasn't prepared. I just... I thought I'd feel something eventually, but not here. Not like this."

She stepped back dramatically, hand on her chest like she needed a moment to breathe.

And then—she reached into her bag.

Slowly. Purposefully.

Pulled out her quill.

And let it drop.

Right at his feet.

The silence was glorious.

He looked down. Then up.

"You just—"

"Oops," Ches said softly, tilting her head with exaggerated innocence.

She turned.

And walked away.

Not a rushed exit.

No, this was a theatrical departure — cloak catching on the wind, boots echoing like she was being filmed from three different angles, her badge glittering so hard it practically sent Morse code to the gods.

Talia stared at her like she'd just committed social arson. "WHAT—WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"

"Phase Two," Ches said without looking back, "has begun."

Behind her, the courtyard remained in stunned silence.

Blaise leaned toward Draco, voice low. "Mate... I think she just proposed to your aura."

Draco didn't respond.

Not immediately.

His eyes were still on her retreating form — brows slightly raised, hand flexing once by his side like it still remembered hers.

Eventually, he exhaled a quiet, baffled laugh.

"What in Merlin's name is she doing?"

Blaise shrugged. "Flirting, I think?"

Draco kept watching.

"...I think she might be winning."

Ches made it exactly forty-seven steps past the courtyard fountain before her façade began to crack.

By step fifty-three, she was speed-walking.

By step sixty, she was power-striding behind the first stone column she could find and gripping it like she needed architectural support.

"Okay," she wheezed. "Okay. What. Just. Happened."

Talia caught up seconds later, already breathless from either running or shock.

"Did you black out? That was bold, even for you."

Ches turned, wide-eyed, and grabbed her by the collar of her cloak. "Talia. I think I just soul-touched him. In public."

Talia blinked. "Yes. You did."

"And then I dropped my quill."

"Correct."

"And then I said 'oops.' Like a villain in a budget rom-com."

"You walked away like you were in slow motion."

Ches released her and staggered backward, bumping into the column with a soft thud.

"I was possessed. That wasn't me. That was Feral Flirt Me."

"You licked your lips."

"I WHAT?"

"Right before you walked off. Subtle. Horrifying."

"Oh my gods." Ches sank to the stone bench nearby, head in her hands. "I think I just flirted so hard I broke myself. I touched his hand and it felt like—like warm lightning. His eyes did that thing where they look directly into your ribcage. Did you see it?! He SMIRKED. Talia. He smirked with his whole face."

Talia sat beside her slowly. "Okay, so... what's the problem?"

Ches looked up. "What's the problem?!"

"Yes. Because as far as I can tell, you just delivered the weirdest romantic performance in courtyard history and he didn't run."

"He blinked, Talia. He didn't smirk that last time. He blinked. Like he didn't know what was happening."

Talia crossed her arms. "Because no one knew what was happening. You said your souls touched."

"They might have!"

"They did not!"

Ches moaned into her hands. "What if he thinks I'm actually in love with him?"

Talia snorted. "Then this plan is working."

"No, no, no—this plan was to make him look ridiculous. I was supposed to be the chaos. The peacock. The feral flirt!"

"Then why do you look like you just got dumped by a boyfriend you never had?"

Ches paused.

Then whispered, "Because I think I liked the hand touch."

Talia gasped.

"Don't say it," Ches muttered.

"You felt it."

"I did!" Ches wailed. "It was like electricity and soap bubbles and forbidden fruit!"

Talia flung a hand toward the heavens. "You're doomed."

"Tell my story," Ches whispered. "Tell them I died of horniness and shame."

▕⃝⃤ 9¾

By the time they made it to their next class, everyone had heard.

Like, everyone.

Ches and Talia walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and immediately hit a wall of staring.

Not subtle staring.

Open.

Blatant.

Neck-craning.

"Why is everyone looking at me like I proposed in Parseltongue?" Ches hissed, clutching her bag like a shield.

"You kinda did," Talia whispered back. "With your eyes."

"I am going to spontaneously combust."

Students whispered as they passed.

"Is it true? Did she really say their souls touched?""I heard she fainted from emotional impact.""Malfoy caught her quill midair and said 'fate works in mysterious ways.'""I bet they kissed behind the statue of Gawain.""Guys, I swear I saw him SMILE."

Ches turned a slow circle. "How has this already escalated into fanfiction?! It's been TWENTY MINUTES."

"You have main character energy," Talia shrugged.

Ches groaned and dropped into her seat, dragging her hood up like it could protect her from reputation damage. The whispers kept swirling, bouncing around the room like an echo spell gone wrong.

Courtyard proposal.Malfoy's soulmate.Potion partners to lovers.

She tried to focus on unpacking her quills.

She really did.

But the whispers kept bleeding in.

"They touched hands, and she gasped. Like, full gasp. Like a movie.""She dropped her quill and walked away like a tragic heroine. He just stood there!""It was poetic. I cried a little."

I cried a little?!

Ches dropped her head to the desk with a dull thunk.

"Let me die," she mumbled.

"No," Talia said. "This is legacy work."

▕⃝⃤ 9¾

Class dragged on.

Professor Vance lectured about shield charms with the same enthusiasm as a garden gnome mid existential crisis, but Ches heard none of it.

Not over the whispers.

Not over the staring.

And definitely not over the look that passed between Pansy and Daphne across the aisle when Ches dropped her ink pot and six people gasped like she was about to declare eternal love again.

"I can't live like this," Ches muttered.

"Live?" Talia whispered, grinning. "You're flourishing. The people are obsessed with you. This is your villain origin story."

"I don't want a villain origin story. I want a nap."

From the back of the room, a quiet voice piped up:

"I heard they kissed by the courtyard fountain.""WE DID NOT!" Ches blurted before she could stop herself.

The class went dead silent.

Professor Vance looked up from his chalkboard, blinking behind her thick spectacles. "Miss Wyenn. I wasn't aware shield charm theory was so emotionally triggering."

"Sorry," Ches croaked, sinking lower in her seat. "I'm allergic to lies."

A few people stifled laughter. A quill snapped in the back.

Talia leaned in, whispering, "You're cracking."

"I am already cracked. I'm Humpty Dumpty in combat boots."

And then—

Just when Ches thought maybe, maybe, she'd survive the last five minutes of class in relative obscurity...

The door creaked open.

Enter: Draco Malfoy.

Perfectly composed. Fashionably late. Radiating that unbothered aristocrat energy like he'd just wandered in from a date with destiny.

Half the classroom sat up straighter.

He strolled to the only open desk — two seats diagonally from Ches — dropped into it with a little flair, and set down his bag like nothing was amiss.

Not one glance at her.

Not one word.

Coward, she thought. He's pretending it didn't happen.But then—

Just as Professor Vance turned back to the board and began wrapping up the lesson...

Draco leaned back in his chair.

Stretched once.

Casual.

Smug.

Then, in a voice just loud enough to cut through the room—

"If anyone asks, we're not engaged. Yet."A pencil dropped.

Someone squeaked.

Ches slowly, silently turned to face him.

Draco didn't look at her. Didn't need to. He simply adjusted his sleeve and added, under his breath:

"I prefer proposals in private."The bell rang.

The class exploded.

Laughter. Gasps. Screams. One girl actually fainted.

Talia grabbed Ches's hand and shrieked, "HE SAID YET?!"

Ches sat frozen, blinking like her soul had just left her body and gone to lie down somewhere.

She wasn't even sure she could speak.

Or breathe.

Or exist.

And Draco?

Draco stood, adjusted his bag, and walked out of the room like he hadn't just launched a weaponized flirtation bomb into her entire life.

▕⃝⃤ 9¾

The second Ches hit the hallway, she speed-walked like the room behind her had caught fire.

She didn't say a word. Just stomped down the corridor, her cloak fluttering and her glitter badge still pulsing like it was laughing at her.

Talia jogged to catch up. "Okay. Deep breath. You didn't die. No one burst into spontaneous song. You're fine."

"I'm not fine," Ches hissed. "He said yet, Talia. YET. Who says that with a straight face?!"

Talia snorted. "Someone who knows it'll get in your head."

Ches whirled around. "It's not in my head!"

Talia raised an eyebrow.

Ches fumbled. "Okay, maybe it's renting a tiny studio apartment in my head, but it's not paying utilities. It's not serious."

"Mhm."

Ches groaned and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. "I just don't get it. I'm the unhinged one. I'm doing the flirting. I'm dropping the quills. I'm declaring soul contact. And yet? Somehow he's still winning."

Talia bit back a smile. "So you admit he's winning?"

"No. I admit he's cheating."

"With what? His face?"

"Yes! And his voice. And the cinnamon hair swish. He weaponized the word yet, Talia!"

Ches pushed a hand through her hair. "I need to recalibrate. Phase Two wasn't enough. I need a Phase Two-point-Five. Something weird. Something unpredictable. Something he can't smirk through."

Talia grinned. "You're really not used to someone keeping up with your chaos, are you?"

Ches glared. "No. And I hate it. And I respect it. But mostly I hate it."

Talia patted her on the head. "You've got 25 days left. Go feral."

Ches exhaled, straightened her robes, and nodded once like she was about to enter a battle arena.

Game on, Malfoy.