The Room of Requirement is quiet, its warm glow offering little solace as you sit on the cold stone floor. The festive decorations you conjured earlier now feel suffocating, their cheerfulness mocking the ache in your chest. You clutch your wand tightly, staring at it, but no matter how hard you try, the spell doesn’t come.

“Expecto Patronum,” you whisper, your voice trembling. A faint shimmer of light flickers at the tip of your wand before vanishing completely.

“Dammit,” you mutter as you throw your wand. Memories that once brought you happiness now feel distant and hollow. A tear slips down your cheek, and then another, until you’re crying silently.

The door creaks open, and you hear soft footsteps behind you. “I thought I might find you here,” Draco’s familiar voice says, his tone unusually gentle.

You don’t look up. “I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking.

He doesn’t buy it. He moves closer, sitting beside you on the cold floor, his presence warm and steady. “You don’t have to pretend with me,” he says quietly. “Not now.”

You let out a shaky breath. “I can’t even cast a Patronus anymore,” you admit, your voice thick with emotion. “It was one of the last things my father taught me, and I can’t do it. My memories… they aren’t happy anymore.”

Draco’s expression softens, and he reaches for your hand. “It’s not about the spell,” he says. “It’s about what you’re feeling right now. And I know it’s hard, but Lupin wouldn’t want you to carry this alone.”

The mention of your father’s name makes your chest tighten. “It’s the first Christmas without him,” you whisper, your tears flowing freely now. “It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right.”

Draco hesitates for a moment before pulling you into his arms. “I know,” he murmurs. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here.”

For the first time, you lean into him, the weight of your grief momentarily lessened by his embrace.

“I’m always going to be right here.”