**Title: Dark Echoes of the Heart**

 Chaper 6

**Draco** 

He stood rooted to the spot, his eyes following y/n as she walked away, a smirk etched on her face. Confusion clouded his thoughts. This was uncharted territory for him; he was accustomed to girls flocking to him, eager for his attention. But y/n was different—an enigma that intrigued him. As he watched her disappear into the distance, a flicker of determination sparked within him. For the first time, he realized he would have to put in effort to win her over, and he found himself strangely eager for the challenge. His mind raced, questioning his feelings. Did he genuinely like her? The thought was foreign; he had never been one to date seriously, preferring fleeting encounters with girls who seemed to lack self-respect. Yet y/n's unique spirit pulled at something inside him, stirring emotions he had long buried.

**Y/N**

As I completed my morning routine, a whirlwind of thoughts spiraled through my mind, each one vying for attention. The encounter with Draco replayed vividly in my memory; I could still taste him—the intoxicating blend of sweetness and bitterness lingering on my lips, a fitting reflection of his complex nature. Every step I took felt heavier, burdened by the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Upon entering the Great Hall, I was enveloped by the inviting scent of breakfast wafting through the air. My eyes quickly found Hermione, who was seated at the long table with Harry and Ron, joyfully sharing a plate of golden pancakes that glistened with syrup. My heart raced as I moved toward them, urgency propelling my every stride. "Hermione!" I called out, trying to catch my breath as I approached. "I need you! It's urgent!" A spark of mischief lit up Hermione's face, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she grinned playfully. "Ooo, is it about Draco—" she began teasingly, but before she could finish, I interrupted her with a nervous laugh. "Shut up!" I exclaimed, my tone light-hearted, although the gravity of the situation loomed between us like a thick fog. "Okay, fineee," she replied in a mock-serious tone, her voice playful. "Can we go talk somewhere more quiet?" "Yeah, totally!" I agreed, relief flooding through me. We made our way to the empty library, the hushed surroundings adding to the gravity of what I was about to share. As I settled into a cozy nook, the silence enveloped us, coaxing my confession. "Okay, so it is about Draco!" "I knew it!" Hermione declared, a knowing glint in her eye as she playfully nudged my arm. Once we found a secluded spot amidst the towering shelves of books, she leaned in, brimming with anticipation. "Sooo, spill!" she urged eagerly, her excitement palpable. With a deep breath, I launched into the story of the kiss—the sheer thrill of it and the tantalizing game of cat and mouse we had been playing, each word tinged with the electric memory of what had just transpired. 

"Wait, you actually patted him on the shoulder and just walked away?" she asked, her laughter ringing out like music. "Yes!" I replied, a giggle escaping as I recalled the moment. "Girl, you totally pulled a Draco Malfoy on him!" she exclaimed, still chuckling. "I know! You should have seen the look on his face!" I said, feeling a rush of mischievous pride. 

As the remnants of the dream lingered in my mind, I felt it was essential to confide in Hermione about the unsettling voices that had haunted me. My cheerful demeanor shifted, becoming more serious and somber. "Hermione, there's something important I need to tell you," I began, gauging her reaction. Her brow furrowed with concern as she replied, "Yeah?" Taking a deep breath, I recounted the chilling details of the previous night. "I had this dream where Voldemort was there. He was shouting, calling my name, urging me to perform a spell." Hermione's eyes widened with alarm as she probed further, "Do you know what spell he wanted you to cast?" I leaned in closer, lowering my voice as I whispered the name that sent shivers down my spine, "Avada Kedavra." Her gasp punctuated the tense air between us. "Well, did you do it?" she asked, her voice a mixture of fear and urgency. I glanced down at the ground, feeling the weight of my guilt. "Yes, but I didn't want to. It's not real; it was just a dream." Hermione sighed deeply, reaching out to grasp my hand, offering reassurance. "Harry has these dreams too, but they're different from yours. He sees things that have happened in the past or are going to happen soon." Her words hung in the air, a reminder of the danger that still loomed over us. "You don't really think I'm going to go through with it, do you?" I glanced at her, anxiety settling in my chest. "Y/N, you're such a wonderful person. I've never seen you hurt anything, not even a fly." I took a deep breath, trying to convey my sincerity. "That's what makes you so special—your kindness and compassion. There's no way you could ever be a killer," she reassured me, her voice gentle yet firm. But as she spoke, an unsettling feeling crept over me, like a shadow lurking just beyond the edges of her words. It was as if you carried a secret weight, a hidden truth that hinted you might have taken a life, yet the memory was lost to you. I tried to shake off the eerie thought that flickered in my mind, dismissing it as paranoia. "Thank you, Hermione. I really needed to hear that," I replied, my voice tinged with gratitude, though a sliver of doubt lingered in my heart.