It was late at night, and sleep simply wouldn’t come. The castle was quiet, its long corridors echoing only with the faint creak of the stone settling. Being a prefect had its perks—you could wander freely without fear of detention. So, with nothing else to do, you found yourself drifting toward the prefects’ bathroom, deciding a warm bath might calm your restless mind.

The air was thick with the sweet scent of soaps and steam as you slipped inside, the massive pool glimmering invitingly under the moonlight filtering through stained-glass windows. Shedding your robes, you dipped one foot into the water, relishing the soothing warmth as your toes broke the surface. But before you could slide in fully, a voice carried softly across the room.

“Well, look at you…”

Your head snapped up, startled, only to see Draco Malfoy lounging lazily in the far corner of the bath, half-hidden by mist. His pale hair glowed faintly in the dim light, and a smirk tugged at his lips as his sharp grey eyes fixed on you.

“I’d say you should wear this little a bit more often” he drawled, his gaze deliberately sweeping over your bikini-clad form before meeting your eyes again with an infuriatingly smug arch of his brow.