Y/n remained near the edge of the room, an untouched champagne flute resting in her hand. She had spent most of the evening avoiding familiar faces, offering polite smiles whenever someone recognized her before slipping back into the safety of the crowd. She had almost convinced herself tonight would be uneventful.

"...Malfoy."

The surname carried effortlessly through the ballroom. Her breath caught. Slowly, she lifted her head.

Across the room stood Draco Malfoy, speaking quietly with a Ministry official. The years had changed him. The sharp edges of the boy she once knew had softened into something quieter, more restrained. Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, he carried himself with the same elegance he always had, yet there was an unmistakable weariness behind it now.

As if sensing her gaze, he looked up.

Their eyes met. The room seemed to fall silent.

Shock crossed Draco's face first. Then recognition. Then something far more dangerous.

Longing.

It disappeared behind practiced composure almost as quickly as it had come. Y/n lowered her eyes and turned toward the exit.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.