Draco Malfoy version of my T.N story! ———————————————— Hogwarts hosts a holiday gift exchange, the kind everyone pretends not to care about while secretly taking it far too seriously. Yours becomes impossible to ignore. At first, it’s small things—perfectly chosen. A book you were going to buy but never mentioned. A charm placed on your gloves so your hands never go numb in the corridors. Your favorite sweets, always appearing at just the right moment after a bad day. Then the letters start. No name. No signature. Just careful, precise handwriting that feels almost… familiar. Like whoever is writing them has spent a long time watching you without ever stepping into the light. And the unsettling part is that they’re right about everything. Your habits. Your moods. The way you pretend not to notice certain people in certain corridors. The way you always pause before you say what you actually think. You start looking for patterns. Timing. House. Handwriting. Whoever it is knows you too well to be random. By the time the Yule Ball approaches, you’re convinced you’re close to finding them. And Draco Malfoy is the last person you seriously consider—because Malfoy doesn’t do quiet. He doesn’t do subtle. He doesn’t do careful kindness with no audience. Except he does. He just makes sure no one is ever watching the right version of him. At the Ball, you finally notice it—the way his attention keeps finding you and then moving away just a fraction too late, like he’s correcting himself. Like he almost got caught. And for the first time, the thought stops feeling like a guess. It feels like the answer.