The Astronomy Tower is always cold at night, but tonight, the air feels almost alive with energy. You stand near the edge, the stars above brighter than usual, their icy light bathing the world in a silvery glow. That's when you first hear it—a faint whisper, soft and sorrowful, carried on the wind.

“You shouldn’t be here,” says a voice, its ethereal cadence sending a shiver down your spine. Turning, you see her: a ghost, her form translucent yet regal, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Who are you?” you ask, heart racing but curious.

Her gaze fixes on you, a heavy sadness settling in her expression. “That’s a story for another time. But if you care to listen, perhaps you can help me.”

The ghost’s tale begins to unfold in fragments over weeks. Late nights turn into whispered conversations in the tower as you piece together her tragedy. She had once loved deeply, but betrayal and war had severed her bond, leaving her trapped in this liminal existence.

You feel a strange kinship with her story, though you can’t explain why—until one evening when Draco finds you lingering by the tower stairs.

“Out stargazing alone again?” His voice is smooth, layered with sarcasm, yet his eyes betray a flicker of curiosity.

“I like the quiet,” you reply, hiding the flicker of guilt that he might discover the ghost you’ve been meeting.

Draco leans against the cold stone wall, his pale hair catching the moonlight. “Careful, someone might think you’re hiding something.”

The strange connection between you and Draco deepens in the coming weeks. His sharp tongue is a challenge, but there are moments—a smirk softening into a genuine smile, his hand brushing yours for a second too long—that make you wonder what lies beneath the icy exterior.