The path to Hogsmeade was awash with the melancholy of late summer bleeding into early autumn. Soft rain drizzled, painting the cobblestones in shimmering hues of orange and grey, mirroring the sky above. Even on a weekend, the air felt heavy, not with warmth, but with a certain shadowed stillness. You were hurrying along, head down, trying to ignore the dampness seeping into your robes.

Leaves, already tinged with the fiery colors of the season, swirled around your feet as you rounded a bend, and that's when you saw him.

Leaning against the ancient stone wall that bordered the path, arms crossed and a sneer already forming on his pale face, was Draco Malfoy. His silver-blond hair, usually so meticulously styled, was slightly disheveled by the rain, but it only seemed to amplify the aristocratic disdain in his eyes.

"Well, well," he drawled, pushing himself off the wall. "Look what the cat dragged in. Out for a little stroll in the rain, are we?"

You stopped, a mix of annoyance and reluctant curiosity bubbling up inside you. "And what if I am, Malfoy? Got a problem with that?"

He smirked, that infuriatingly superior smirk that always managed to get under your skin. "Just surprised to see you out here all alone. Thought you'd be holed up in the library, trying to cram a bit of knowledge into that thick skull of yours."

"Unlike you, Malfoy, some of us actually care about our grades," you retorted, stepping closer. The air crackled with the familiar tension that always seemed to exist between you two – a strange blend of animosity and something else, something you couldn't quite name.

"Oh, I assure you, I'm perfectly well-aware of my academic standing," he said, his grey eyes glinting in the dim light. "I just find there are more… entertaining ways to spend a weekend than being buried in books." He paused, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. "Unless, of course, you're afraid of a little competition."