Draco Malfoy and the Girl Who Hid

48

The days had begun to blur into one another, the estate's secluded beauty wrapping Yn and Draco in an intimate cocoon. The constant tension that had once marked their time together was still there, but it was muted, softened around the edges by the rare moments of calm they shared.

Draco had taken to planning each day with a quiet intent, paying attention to what seemed to soothe her. The usual formal dinners had become informal meals taken in the garden or by the small lake, and the bookshelves in the estate's library had been rearranged to hold the volumes she'd glanced at with interest. Even his gestures, once calculated, now seemed infused with something gentler, something that felt achingly close to sincerity.

One evening, he had found her on the balcony, staring out at the stars with a faraway look in her eyes. She hadn't heard him approach, but when he settled beside her, she didn't pull away as she might have a few days before. Instead, she stayed, allowing his presence to slip into the moment, as quiet and steady as the starlight above.

"Do you know much about the stars?" he asked after a long silence, his voice soft enough that it didn't disturb the quiet.

She glanced at him, surprised by the question. "A little," she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "My mother used to tell me stories about them. My favorite was always the one about Orion — the great hunter, who loved the stars so much that the gods placed him among them."

Draco leaned against the railing, following her gaze to the heavens. "My mother used to tell me that every star was a wish. She'd point out the brightest ones and say, 'Make a wish, Draco. You never know when it might come true.'"

He turned to her, a soft smile on his lips. "Of course, I always thought that was a bit silly. But she was insistent. Even now, I sometimes catch myself making a wish when I see a shooting star."

Yn felt a small smile tug at her lips, and for a moment, the guarded expression she so often wore softened, revealing a glimmer of the girl she had once been. "I think it's a lovely idea," she murmured. "To believe in something as simple as a wish."

They fell into a comfortable silence, both of them lost in their thoughts. The stars above seemed to twinkle with a special brilliance, casting a soft glow over the estate. Yn leaned into the moment, letting herself feel the warmth of Draco's presence beside her. She was cautious, always wary of what he might say or do next, but there was a strange sort of peace in sharing this quiet with him, a fleeting sense of safety that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

After a while, Draco spoke again, his voice low. "You know, you don't have to carry all of this alone, Yn. Whatever it is you're fighting, you don't have to do it by yourself."

She turned to him, searching his face for any sign of deceit, but all she found was a quiet intensity, a sincerity that made her heart ache. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant what he said, but she couldn't shake the fear that this was all part of a game, that he was only playing a role.

"Maybe I do," she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Maybe that's the only way to survive."

He looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "I used to think that, too. But I've learned that there's strength in letting someone else in. It doesn't make you weak — it makes you human."

They sat there in silence for a while longer, neither of them willing to break the spell that had settled over them. Yn felt her heart pounding in her chest, a mixture of fear and something else, something warm and unfamiliar that she wasn't quite ready to name.

The next few days passed in much the same way. Draco continued to be attentive, planning small activities that allowed them to share moments of quiet companionship. They spent their afternoons wandering the grounds of the estate, exploring hidden paths that wound through the woods and led to secret clearings where wildflowers grew in abundance. They shared simple meals on the terrace, their conversations ranging from trivial topics to the rare, meaningful exchange that left her feeling both vulnerable and strangely comforted.