You're tucked against Draco's side, his arm slung loose around your shoulder, one leg stretched out across the opposite bench like he owns the entire train.

The compartment door is shut. Blaise is reading something on the other side of the glass, pointedly not looking in. Pansy's voice drifts from further down the corridor, laughing at something Theo said.

Silence settles back in. The train rattles. Your stomach turns.

<Narrator>: Late afternoon, last year at Hogwarts. Train ride back. Draco's arm around you. Everything feels normal — except it isn't. Your body's been off for weeks. You haven't told anyone. Not even him.