Y/N

_

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this.

After swinging open the giant door with great effort, I took a step into the Room of Requirement, the door disappearing back into the wall it had previously been.

I thought I'd meet a scary clown, stumble into a room full of charms textbooks (I desperately needed help with that subject), or find something worth seeing, but I was disappointed.

It was just an empty broom closet. Without the brooms. So, basically, it was just an empty room.

"Are you lost?" a voice said, sending my soul into orbit.

Not literally, but it just scared me so much, I almost felt my heart jump out of my chest in fright.

Spinning around, I spotted the shadowy figure of a boy in the doorway. I didn't even hear the door open...what the heck? Squinting my eyes to see, I caught a flicker of the blonde hair, and instantly reeled back.

It was Draco.

"How did you get in here?" I exclaimed, feeling blood rush to my cheeks in panic.

The boy shrugged, taking a step in, "it just opened for me."

As soon as he was inside, the door crumbled back into place, and a dim light switched on. We were alone in a windowless—and now doorless—room, staring at each other in confusion.

Well, Draco just looked amused.

"Did you follow me?" I pressed, taking another step back.

The boy rolled his eyes, his fingers tapping against the thin wand in his hand. I wasn't sure why I expected him to be nice to me, since he was a self-centered jerk, but I assumed he'd act the same way he did on the train.

At least that Draco was tolerable.

"Just because you changed over the summer, doesn't mean I want to follow you anywhere," he said, "you're not special."

So I was right. 

That's why he was staring at me on the train. I wouldn't give a damn on the usual, but it stung my ego to hear him say I wasn't special. I narrowed my eyes in annoyance, letting out a heated exhale.

"I have to get back to my common room," I huffed, striding past him towards the door.

Before I could make it halfway, I felt the boy grab my wrist, pulling me back in front of him. His hands were cold, and I winced as I felt the callused pads of his fingers press into my skin.

"The room of requirement doesn't just open for everyone, you know?" He said, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile.

I snatched my hand away from him, narrowing my eyes, "then how did you get in?"

"Maybe something's required of us."

"The room doesn't require us to do anything," I frowned, "it only brings us what we need most, and since it's empty, it must have... messed up or something."

Even though I tried to play it off, the both of us knew how lousy of an excuse that was. As ancient the school's magic was, consistency was something of high value. Things rarely messed up.

I brushed past him again, hoping to leave the room, but the door was still gone. I was met with the stone wall, staring me tauntingly in the face. Coming to a stop awkwardly, I fiddled with the strings of my robe in impatience. I heard Draco chuckle behind me, clearly amused that my plan to storm out didn't work.

This door was taking an awfully long time to reappear.

"Why the hell do you have a bread roll in your hand?" He said, glancing down at my hand, "did you steal that?"

I spun back around, my cheeks flushed.

"No, you idiot," I spat out, "there was a bowl full of them at dinner."

He took a step towards me, his mouth twitching in annoyance after I called him an idiot. Apparently he didn't like the word...too bad. Poor, little Malfoy got offended.

"You know you're not allowed to take food from the great hall," he said, snatching it out of my hands, "it's against the rules."

"Says who?"

Observing the bread roll in his palm, he took a bite out of it, chewing it slowly. I watched as he swallowed, my body ticking with anger. He was pissing me off.

Licking his lips, the boy shrugged, "says me."

"Give me my bloody bread roll, you twat," I hissed, reaching out to swipe the remaining piece out of his hand.

Dodging my attack, Draco just tucked it into his pocket in one smooth motion, grabbing my wrist and shoving it down to my side.

Why the hell wasn't this door opening?

"Did you just call me a twat?" The boy scowled, his voice deepening, "you better watch your mouth, you filthy Gryffindor."

"Or what?" I shot back, taking a brave step forward, "are you going to tell your precious Daddy about it?"

In the split of a second, I felt his hands press against my shoulders, and my back crashed against the stone behind me. He had me pinned against the wall, his left hand against my wrist, and his hand clamped around my mouth.

I tried to scream in fear, but my sounds were muffled.

"Don't you ever mention my father again," he growled, his face hovering inches from mine.

I could feel the warmth of his breath tickle my nose, and that made me want to lash out more. His hands were cold and rough, the ice cold feeling seeping through my skin and leaving me paralyzed. As much as I tried to resist, I was still being held against the wall, and against my will.

Draco paused for a second, flipping his hand so that his thumb was pressed against my bottom lip.

"Did it ever occur to you," he said slyly, his voice coming to a quiet, "that you're currently trapped in a room—one that no one knows exists, might I add—with me?"

I squirmed again, my brows furrowed in anger. Draco continued:

"No one would hear you scream," he said, rubbing his thumb slowly against my lip, "not even Potter."

Removing his hand, Draco leaned his head towards me, his mouth just barely grazing against mine. Before our lips could touch, he stopped himself, pulled back sharply, and let go of my hands.

The steady rumble of the door reappearing echoed out into the room, and Draco took a step back.

I didn't know what to feel. I was angry, annoyed, humiliated, and slightly murderous, but the fact that Draco had a point was detrimental. I had to watch my mouth, especially when I found myself trapped in a broom closet with a stranger.

Dammit.

"Keep that in mind the next time you decide to call me a twat," Draco said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "goodbye, [l/n]."

And just like that, he walked out of the room, the sound of his leather shoes thudding against the stone floor as he disappeared into the corridor.

What the hell just happened?