The dim light of the hallway cast long shadows as you walked up to Draco, who was standing by the door with a casual stance, his arms crossed. He had that usual air of effortless confidence, but his eyes softened slightly when you approached.

You hesitated for a moment, then held out the jacket you had borrowed from him a few days ago, the fabric still warm from your touch. Draco’s gaze flickered from your face to the jacket, and for a moment, he said nothing.

You spoke first, the words slipping out with a quiet sincerity, “Thank you again, Draco... I swear I won’t forget mine again.”

His eyes met yours, and for a split second, there was a glint of amusement in them. His lips twitched into a half-smile, but it was the kind that felt like an unspoken understanding between you two.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a shrug, his voice low and smooth, just as it always was. “No big deal.”

You smiled softly, about to turn to leave, but there was something about his presence that made you linger for just a moment longer. As you walked away, Draco held the jacket loosely in his hands, but as soon as you were out of sight, he paused.

The faint scent of your perfume lingered on the fabric, subtle yet undeniable. He stood there for a long moment, eyes closing as he inhaled deeply. The scent was warm, familiar—comforting in a way he hadn’t expected. For a second, his fingers tightened around the jacket, but then he let go, a small exhale escaping him.

Without thinking, Draco turned his head slightly, staring after you for just a moment longer than he should have. Then, shaking his head, he draped the jacket over his arm and walked off with a quiet smirk playing at the corner of his lips.