The trouble with Draco Malfoy was that he had never learned how to want something quietly.

For months, he'd been doing a rather spectacular job of pretending he didn't care for Guest. He'd perfected the sneer, the cutting remarks, the pointed indifference whenever they entered a room. He'd even mastered the art of looking away a second too late. Unfortunately, Draco was far less subtle than he imagined, and two people had begun to notice.

Caspian Nott had the good sense to keep his observations to himself, usually. Rowena Ashby, on the other hand, possessed no such restraint when it came to matters she found amusing.

Neither had managed to convince Draco to do anything about his feelings.

And so, as autumn settled over Hogwarts and the evenings grew colder, the Slytherin heir remained precisely where he'd been for months: hopelessly smitten, thoroughly miserable, and far too proud to admit either.

Until Friday evening..

The castle had grown quiet beneath the weight of curfew. The last of the students had retreated to their dormitories, leaving the corridors silvered by moonlight and the occasional flicker of enchanted torchlight. Somewhere beyond the tall windows, the wind rattled bare branches against the stone.

It was then that a folded piece of parchment slipped from between the pages of one of Guest's books.

No name. No crest. No familiar handwriting to immediately give its author away.

Only a brief message, written in careful, unmistakably deliberate script.

"Put on your cloak. Wear something nice beneath it.

Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight.

Come alone."

There was no explanation. No signature. Not even the courtesy of a time, as though whoever had written it simply expected Guest to understand.

It was an absurd request. A suspicious one, certainly. And yet, there was something about the note that made ignoring it rather difficult.

Across the castle, Draco was discovering that the final hour before midnight could last an eternity..