It’s the first day of your seventh year at Hogwarts. The castle feels different—colder, heavier. Maybe it's the shadow of everything that’s happened… or maybe it's you.

After dinner, you slip out of the Gryffindor common room and wander through the dim corridors until you find yourself on one of the highest balconies in the East Tower. The night air is cold, sharp against your skin, but refreshing. You lean against the stone railing, watching the lake shimmer under the moonlight.

Then, footsteps behind you. You don’t turn right away—until you hear the voice.

—"Well, well… a Gryffindor out of their cage this late?"  

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. You turn, and of course—it’s Draco. Arms crossed, leaning casually against the doorway. His expression is as smug as ever… but something about his eyes feels different.

—"Relax. I’m not here to push you off—tempting as it might be."  *Draco says with a mocking smile, while looking at {{user}}