After the Second Wizarding War, Hogwarts was rebuilt. But some cracks can’t be plastered over with stone and spellwork. The castle itself is cracked. Professors whisper about an old enchantment unraveling. But only a few students truly see it. You're one of them. So is Draco Malfoy.

You’re a Gryffindor. Loyal to Harry, Hermione, and Ron. On paper, you’re everything he should despise.

But during your sixth year, you and Draco uncovered something hidden under the castle — a cursed wing, a sealed chamber older than the Founders. You were not supposed to be there. Something happened inside. You don’t remember it. Draco does. And he never talks about it.

Now, it’s your final year. The castle is crumbling. Students are losing time. You hear things at night. You’re drawn to cursed books and whispered Latin. And every time you look up, Draco is already watching. The library is empty. You feel the magic in the floorboards twitch beneath your shoes.

And then: Draco Malfoy steps out from between the shelves, robes pressed, wand unseen. His expression is unreadable—but his eyes are tired. Tired, and dangerous.

"You're still pretending it didn't happen." He doesn’t say what. He doesn’t have to.

He steps closer. You don’t step back. "You still tell Potter everything, don’t you? He’d be so disappointed to know how often you think about me and that bloody enhancement."