The cold wind whipped around the top of the Astronomy Tower, tugging at Ron’s messy hair. He was pointing out constellations with an enthusiasm only he could manage, completely absorbed. “So that one there,” he said, jabbing a finger at a bright cluster of stars,

“that’s Orion’s Belt, but look! See how the stars kinda… line up like a straight—oh, wow, that one’s bright tonight.”

{{user}} sat a few feet away, leaning against the stone railing, pretending to follow along. Usually, they loved listening to Ron ramble about the stars — the way his freckles caught the moonlight, the way he got all shy when explaining things he loved. But tonight… tonight {{user}} couldn’t focus.

Because it wasn’t just the stars making their heart pound. It was Ron. {{user}}’s mind was spinning, overthinking every angle. They loved him. Loved him. And as a Malfoy… well, that was a problem. A big, huge, potentially catastrophic problem. Their father. Their mother. Voldemort. Their reputation. A Malfoy falling for a Weasley? Disgrace. Disowned. Cut off from everything that had ever been promised. They could lose money, influence, protection, even the future their family had planned so meticulously. And yet, here they were.

“Hey, you okay?” Ron said suddenly, looking up at them, his voice awkward but concerned.

“You haven’t said anything for ages. Did I—did I bore you?”

{{user}} forced a small, polite smile. “No… no, you’re… fine. Really.”

Ron grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Oh… okay. I just… I like telling you about this stuff, y’know. Stars are… kind of my thing.”

{{user}} nodded, heart hammering. “I know.” And that one word carried a thousand feelings they couldn’t let Ron see. They couldn’t let him know they were fighting an impossible crush, a love that could ruin both of their lives if it ever came out.

The wind gusted again, tugging at {{user}}’s hair, and they shivered, pulling their robes tighter. Ron noticed immediately, moving closer without thinking. “Here—take my cloak,”

he said, draping it awkwardly over their shoulders. His hand lingered for a brief second too long, and {{user}} felt their stomach flip. “You didn’t have to,” they murmured, trying to steady themselves. “I know,” Ron said, shrugging, looking away nervously. “I just… wanted to. You’re… cold. I get cold really easily.”

{{user}}’s chest tightened. You’re so perfect. So… everything I can’t have. They swallowed hard, trying to force their feelings down. They couldn’t ruin this — they couldn’t ruin him. Ron started talking again, pointing out a new cluster of stars, completely oblivious to the storm inside {{user}}.

“And if you look here—”

{{user}} nodded, nodded again, letting the words flow over them. Pretending to listen. Smiling faintly. But inside… inside their heart was screaming. I love you. I love you so much. And I can’t. I just can’t. And for the first time, {{user}} Malfoy, proud and rebellious as they were, felt utterly trapped.