firecracker ???

1-11

"Of course I am. He looks at you like you're part of his next mission."

"He looks at everyone like that."

"He doesn't look at any of the rest of us like that."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you know this because...?"

"Observational brilliance. Also, Blaise pointed it out."

She let out a short laugh. "You're being ridiculous."

Draco leaned back against the couch, arms folded. "You're my sister. If some half-baked Gryffindor hero thinks he can drag you into his nonsense, I'm hexing him the next time he looks in your direction."

She bumped her knee against his. "So protective."

"So ungrateful," he shot back.

"I know. You're practically a saint. Like Potter."

"I cannot believe you just said that! You're lucky I can stand you."

"You're lucky I don't write Father about the way you act at school."

Draco blinked. Then side eyed her. Hard.

They fell into a companionable silence, the kind that only twins could share. When she finally spoke again, her voice was softer.

"Thanks for staying."

He shrugged but didn't move away. "You're my sister. Always."

-

Across the castle, Ron lay in bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking far too hard for how late it was.

He'd seen the way Harry looked at her.

It wasn't like how Seamus or Dean talked about girls—loud and smug and never really serious. It wasn't like when Fred teased people or when Percy got awkward.

It was quiet. Focused. Curious.

Like Harry was watching someone write a sentence he didn't want to miss the ending to.

Earlier, Ron had elbowed him when he caught Harry staring. "You don't even like her," he'd whispered.

And Harry, not looking away, had said, "I know. I just want to know what she'll say next."

Ron sighed into his pillow.

He didn't get it.

But it was the first time he'd ever seen Harry look like that at anyone.

And that, honestly, was what made him nervous.

-

Back in Slytherin, Draco leaned forward with his elbows on knees and scowl still set in place. "I mean it, Lyra. You don't see how he looks at you. Like he's trying to figure you out, like you're some puzzle he needs to solve."

Elestara gave a dramatic sigh and tossed a nearby cushion lightly at him. "You're delusional. You've officially lost it. And frankly, it's embarrassing."

"How many times will you say that? You're embarrassing," he snapped back, catching the pillow.

"I'm not the one monologuing about Potter like I'm writing a diary entry."

"It's not a monologue—"

"Oh, it's a full performance. Should I applaud? Shall I fetch Potter for his approval?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're not taking this seriously."

"Because I don't care, Draco," she said, her voice rising. "He's Potter. He's loud and nosy and full of himself. I've barely spoken to him, and I have no intention of becoming a footnote in his Boy-Who-Lived circus."

He blinked. She never usually snapped like that.

She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Look. I know you mean well. And it's... weirdly sweet how much you care. But can we not spend the night worrying about him? I'd rather make fun of your hair."

He looked affronted. "My hair is perfect."

"Your hair is the cautionary tale mothers tell their children after bad haircuts."

"You wound me."

"I aim to."

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was warmer. Comfortable.

Then, with no warning, Lyra leaned over and hugged him.

Draco stiffened. "What—"

"Don't make it weird," she muttered into his shoulder.

He grinned slowly and pulled her in tighter. "Oh, this is definitely weird. I'm going to write to Uncle Regulus. Let him know the Black heir's gone soft."

"Let go."

"No."

"Draco—"

"You started it."

She made a sound of frustration but didn't actually pull away that hard.

Finally, she smacked his arm. "I will bite you."

He released her with a huff. "You're so dramatic."

"And you're the worst."

She moved to head to the dorms, but paused. "Draco?"

He looked up.

"Thanks. I know you're annoying, but... you're a good brother."

His expression softened for a split second—then he ruffled his own hair, exaggerated, and smirked. "Of course I am. I'm also much better looking."

She groaned, threw her hands up, and disappeared up the stairs.

Draco waited until she was gone before letting the smirk slip, just slightly. Then he turned and headed to bed.