The Great Hall shimmered beneath thousands of floating candles. Silver plates gleamed. Ghosts drifted through tables, exchanging greetings with returning students. Everything looked exactly as it always had.

Most students didn't notice the wrongness.

But she did.

Sitting between Astoria Greengrass and Cho Chang, she stirred her pumpkin juice absently. Her eyes wandered the hall. Observing. Cataloging. Remembering.

Toward the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy sat among his usual crowd—Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson. He looked exactly as he always did. Sharp cheekbones. Cool gray eyes. That effortless posture that made him seem untouchable.

Normal.

Except—

She caught something. A flicker. A shift in the light that didn't quite make sense.

For just a moment, as he turned to say something to Blaise, his eyes caught the candlelight differently. Not like reflections. Like something beneath the surface.

Then it was gone.

Something was wrong.

She didn't know what. She didn't know why.

But she had spent too many years watching, listening, noticing things others overlooked to dismiss it now.