The music from the grand hall faded as the night stretched on, replaced by soft murmurs and laughter drifting through the moonlit courtyard. You had stepped outside to catch your breath, the heavy air of the crowded ballroom becoming too much. The cool night was a welcome reprieve, the scent of winter mingling with the faint remnants of champagne.

As you lingered near the fountain, a voice sliced through the quiet.

“Leaving the party so soon?”

You turned to find Draco standing just a few feet away, his sharp silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. He still wore his formal robes, though his tie hung loose, and his pale hair was slightly mussed. There was a strange intensity in his gaze, one that made your heartbeat quicken against your will.

“Not everyone thrives on endless small talk,” you replied coolly.

He smirked. “Ah, but you seemed to be enjoying yourself earlier. Or were you pretending for their sake?”

You glared at him, but he stepped closer before you could respond. “Come with me,” he said, voice low and almost conspiratorial.

“What?”

“Don’t argue. Just follow me.”

Before you could decide whether to comply, he reached for your hand, his touch firm yet oddly gentle. He led you past the shadowed archways into an alcove hidden from prying eyes. The noise from the party melted away, replaced by the soothing hum of the wind.

“What is this?” you asked, though your words carried less conviction than you intended.

“Call it an escape,” Draco replied, his smirk softening into something quieter. “Or perhaps an indulgence.”

He raised his wand, flicking it subtly. Soft music filled the air—a hauntingly beautiful tune that seemed to belong to the night itself. Draco turned to you, extending his hand.

“Dance with me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He pulled you close, one hand settling at your waist while the other held yours firmly. The steps were slow, deliberate. Draco moved with practiced ease.