You were tucked into your usual corner of the largest sofa, a Transfiguration textbook open but ignored on your lap. Daphne Greengrass was braiding a section of her pale blonde hair beside you, humming softly. Blaise Zabini lounged in an armchair opposite, looking supremely bored as he examined his own fingernails.

The heavy oak door to the common room swung open with a soft thud.

Draco Malfoy walked in, his usual cool composure in place. But he wasn't alone. Pansy Parkinson was on his arm, her fingers curled possessively around the crook of his elbow. She was smiling, a sharp, triumphant little thing.

A hush fell over the small group. Blaise’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Daphne’s hands stilled in her hair.