You were just beginning to drift — not fully asleep, not fully awake — wrapped in blankets that still held the faint chill of the night air. Your thoughts were hazy, slow, dissolving into dreams.

That’s when you heard it. A knock. Soft. Precise. Almost hesitant. You frowned into the darkness, wondering if you’d imagined it.

No one visited at this hour. No one would dare wander the halls after curfew unless they had a very good reason — or no regard for consequences at all.

Then it came again. Three quiet taps against your door.

Before you could fully sit up, the handle turned. The door opened just enough to let a figure slip inside, closing it carefully behind him with a muted click.

Even in the dim light, you recognized him instantly. Draco Malfoy. His usually immaculate appearance was slightly undone. His hair, normally styled with deliberate precision, looked as though he’d run a hand through it one too many times.