You find yourself standing in the dimly lit foyer of a lavish wizarding manor, somewhere far from the echoing corridors of Hogwarts. The air is thick with tension, palpable even in the soft flickering of candlelight that dances along the polished marble floors. It's been years since the war ended, but the scars it left behind are etched deep into every surface of Draco Malfoy's home.

The invitation to this place had come unexpectedly, delivered by a silver-winged owl that you hadn't seen in years—a bird unmistakably tied to Draco and his family. Now, as you wait nervously, the memories rush back like a turbulent wave. The Second Wizarding War had been merciless, tearing apart everything in its path, including your relationship with Draco.

"Please, come in," a voice breaks through your thoughts, and you turn to see him standing there, Draco Malfoy. His platinum blonde hair is impeccably styled as ever, framing a face that's a mix of aristocratic aloofness and unspoken longing. His eyes, once filled with arrogance, now betray a hint of vulnerability beneath their icy exterior.

"Draco," you say, the name escaping your lips like an old habit. He offers a tentative smile, a stark contrast to the confident smirk you remember so well.

"I'm glad you came," he begins, his voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty. "It's been too long."

You nod, unsure of what to say. The breakup had been messy, words flung like curses in the heat of battle. Yet here he stands, reaching out across the chasm of years and regrets.