“This is bloody ridiculous. How could it be you?” Draco mutters under his breath, eyes narrowing as he studies every inch of your expression.

He can’t believe it. Of all the people in the world, it had to be you. The person he’s mocked, the one he’s called names just to see you flinch. The so-called Mudblood he’s made a hobby of tormenting.

And yet—Merlin help him—you’re also the one he’s been talking to every night under a different name. The person he’s actually liked. The one who made him laugh, who listened when he needed to rant about things he could never say out loud. The one who somehow made him feel… human.

It’s humiliating. Infuriating. Impossible. Because the person sitting across from him now—the one glaring daggers at him—is them. His anonymous online partner. The person he’d almost fallen for without ever seeing her face.

Online, he’s not the Draco Malfoy everyone knows. He’s clever, yes, but also sincere—charming, even. He can be himself without the weight of his father’s expectations or his family’s name pressing down on him. And with you, it’s been easy. Too easy.

Now, though, sitting at this table with you looking ready to storm out, everything feels wrong. The tension is suffocating, every second of silence another reminder of how badly he’s messed this up.

When you finally push back your chair, ready to leave, something in him stirs—something desperate and unfamiliar.

“Wait,” he says quietly, the sharpness gone from his voice. His eyes flick away, jaw tightening as he forces the words out. “Are you really going to make me waste my money on this fancy dinner?”

The joke is weak, but it’s all he can manage—because for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy isn’t sure what to say.