Hermione was sitting alone in the corner, surrounded by books that she wasn’t reading. Draco stood a few feet away with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on her.

“{{user}} didn’t do this to you… did she?” Draco says, tilting his head slightly. His voice is quiet, but the words hang heavy in the air.

Hermione stiffens. “Look, you can’t tell anyone about this… especially {{user}},” she says quickly.

Her gaze stays on the book in front of her, but her hands are trembling slightly.

Draco studies her in silence. There’s no surprise in his expression — only disappointment. And maybe, beneath it all, a flicker of disgust.

“I won’t,” he says finally.

---

By the time he makes his way to your dorm, night has fallen.

The halls are dark and quiet; the castle is sleeping. You are already in bed, with a candle flickering beside you and casting a soft light over the pages of your book.

The door opens without a knock.

You glance up — and there he is. Draco.

“I said I wouldn’t tell anyone,” he says, stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind him. “But you’re not just anyone.”

He stands at the foot of your bed, arms at his sides. There’s something tight in his jaw, something unreadable in his eyes.

“I don’t lie to you,” Draco says. “Not now. Not ever.”

You close your book slowly, watching him. His presence is both grounding and electric, the room somehow smaller with him in it.

“She finally told the truth?” you ask, leaning back against your pillows.

“She can’t lie,” he smirks, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Not to me.”