But Draco Malfoy doesn't do "unnoticed."

He saw it. He processed it. And then, in the twisted, high-maintenance theater of his own mind, he decided this was a declaration of war. Because why on earth would Y/n be smiling at someone else when he was right there, radiating a carefully curated aura of superior indifference?

Naturally, the only logical response for a Malfoy was to spiral. He didn't scream. He didn't make a scene. He simply retreated to a bottle of something expensive and strong, nursing a grudge and a hangover-in-the-making for three hours.

10:00 PM.

The silence of the corridor is shattered by a knock. It isn't a request for entry; it's a demand. Sharp. Impatient. The sound of someone who has completely run out of patience for their own feelings.