It was early evening, and the corridors of Hogwarts were slowly emptying.
As you walked past the main staircase, you heard laughter. Not cheerful, but mocking.
You turned around… and there Draco Malfoy was sitting—in the middle of the stairs. One hand was firmly planted on the banister, the other holding his hip. His face was contorted in pain, but even more in shame.
Some students walked past him, laughing, whispering, or pretending not to see him.
But you didn’t hesitate. You went down
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