Here's the next part:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the St. Mungo's break room as Ginny poured herself a steaming mug, leaning casually against the counter. Across from her, Draco sat at the corner table, a neat stack of patient files in front of him. His fingers absently traced the rim of his own mug as he skimmed through the reports, the usual furrow of concentration etched between his brows.

"Coffee might help you relax, Malfoy," Ginny teased, taking a slow sip from her mug.

"I'm relaxed," Draco replied dryly, without looking up.

Ginny arched a brow, tilting her head. "Sure you are. You look like you're trying to mentally dissect that file. Should I fetch a scalpel?"

Draco exhaled a quiet chuckle, his lips twitching at the corners, but he still didn't look up. "I'll be sure to call on your expertise if the pages start bleeding."

Before Ginny could deliver another quip, the door swung open, and Blaise and Hermione strode in, their voices carrying an air of excitement.

"Guess what?" Blaise said, grinning as he reached for a coffee mug. "The annual charity gala is at Hogwarts this year. It's going to be spectacular."

Hermione, standing beside him, added, "It's a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with everyone and raise funds for the hospital. Blaise and I are attending—together."

Ginny perked up at the news, her eyes lighting with enthusiasm. "A ball at Hogwarts? That sounds incredible! Do you think McGonagall will chaperone just for old times' sake?"

"She might hex anyone who tries to spike the punch," Blaise mused, smirking.

Ginny turned to Draco, her lips curving mischievously. "You'll be going, won't you, Malfoy? Imagine the nostalgia. The Great Hall, the floating candles… the bad decisions."

Draco finally looked up, meeting her gaze with an unreadable expression. "Tempting, but I think I'll pass."

Ginny gasped theatrically, placing a hand over her heart. "You, declining a chance to swan around in expensive robes and judge people from a distance? I don't believe it."

Draco took a sip of his coffee, eyes gleaming with amusement. "I can do that from right here, Weasley."

Hermione crossed her arms. "Draco, it's for charity."

Ginny leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. "What's the matter, Malfoy? Afraid you won't be the best-dressed man in the room?"

Draco's lips curled into a slow smirk as he set his coffee down. He shifted in his seat, eyes raking over her with measured intent. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that."

The air between them crackled, and for a fraction of a second, Ginny felt her breath catch. Draco wasn't just playing anymore—he was baiting, testing the waters in a way that sent heat crawling up her spine.

Blaise, who had been quietly observing with thinly veiled delight, casually leaned against the counter, stirring his coffee with exaggerated nonchalance. "You know, I've heard that a well-fitted dress robe can do wonders for a man's… confidence."

Ginny grinned, sensing an opening. "Ah, so that's why you always take so long getting dressed, Zabini."

Blaise placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know, perfection takes time."

Draco rolled his eyes. "More like vanity takes time."

Blaise took a slow sip of his coffee, then smirked over the rim. "Speaking of vanity, I'd bet good money you already own at least three robes that would be 'gala-appropriate.'"

Draco's smirk deepened, but he said nothing.

Hermione gave an exasperated sigh. "So, are you coming or not, Draco?"

He let the question hang in the air for a moment before tilting his head toward Ginny. "Will you be there, Weasley?"

Ginny arched a brow. "Obviously."

Draco's gaze lingered on her for a beat too long before he finally replied, "Then I suppose I'll have to reconsider."

Blaise nearly choked on his coffee, hastily covering it with a cough. Hermione's eyes darted between the two of them, brows furrowing slightly, but she wisely said nothing.

Ginny, on the other hand, leaned forward, resting an elbow on the counter and flashing Draco a slow, knowing grin. "Careful, Malfoy. Someone might think you actually enjoy my company."

Draco mirrored her movement, his voice dropping just slightly. "Now, that would be scandalous, wouldn't it?"

Ginny felt a shiver race down her spine, but she refused to be the first to break eye contact.

Blaise, watching with unmasked amusement, clapped his hands together. "Well, this just got interesting."

Hermione shot him a look, but he merely grinned. "What? I live for moments like these."

Ginny finally leaned back, breaking the moment between her and Draco with a breezy laugh. "It's settled, then. A St. Mungo's delegation at the ball. Let's make it a night to remember."

Draco, still smirking, lifted his coffee in a silent toast. "Oh, I have no doubt it will be."

The Great Hall at Hogwarts had never looked more magnificent. Enchanted silver and gold banners floated in mid-air, chandeliers shimmered with a thousand tiny orbs of light, and the marble floor gleamed as if polished by magic itself. The orchestra played softly in the background, setting the tone for the elegant evening.

Ginny entered with Hermione and Blaise, her natural beauty was amplified by the soft lighting, her skin glowing and her eyes sparkling as she took in the grandeur of the evening.

Across the room, Draco had just stepped into the hall with Narcissa. His tuxedo was a perfect fit, tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders and lean frame. The high collar and satin lapels added an air of elegance that was unmistakably Malfoy. His platinum hair was neatly combed back, and the sharp angles of his face seemed even more pronounced under the ambient light.

When his gaze landed on Ginny, his breath hitched.

Merlin, she looks... stunning.

She stood near the edge of the dance floor, radiant in a gown that clung in all the right places before flowing effortlessly around her. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow against her fiery hair, making it shimmer like molten gold. He had seen her plenty of times before—bickering in the break room at St. Mungo's, teasing him mercilessly, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm—but tonight, she was something else entirely.

Dangerous.

Ginny turned her head, catching sight of him, and her eyes widened slightly as she took in his striking appearance.

When did he start looking like that?

Draco Malfoy had always been handsome in that infuriating, aristocratic way, but there was something different about him tonight. Maybe it was the sharp cut of his midnight-black dress robes, the effortless way he carried himself, or the way his silver-gray eyes held hers across the room for a fraction too long. Whatever it was, it sent an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her chest.

He took a deep breath, mentally berating himself for how attractive he found her.

This is a bad idea.

And yet, his feet were already moving toward her. Blaise, standing nearby, gave him an encouraging nudge as he passed, smirking knowingly. Draco stopped in front of Ginny, ignoring the way her brothers turned to eye him suspiciously. Without hesitation, he extended his hand toward her.

"Weasley, would you do me the honor of a dance?"

Ginny blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "You want to dance with me?"

Draco arched his brow. "That is the customary response when someone offers their hand." His voice was droll, but his expression was unexpectedly sincere.

Ginny pursed her lips as if weighing her options, though the corners of her mouth twitched with amusement. "Alright, Malfoy. But if you step on my toes, you're buying me new shoes."

Draco smirked. "I'll do my best to avoid that catastrophe."

He led her onto the dance floor just as the orchestra struck up a slow, elegant waltz. His hand settled at her waist, firm yet careful, while hers rested lightly on his shoulder. Their fingers laced together with an ease that neither had anticipated.

As they began to move, Ginny glanced up at him, pleasantly surprised. "You're actually… good at this."

Draco chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Did you expect me to be dreadful?"

"No," Ginny admitted, her eyes glinting with mischief.

He smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

The music swelled, and Draco guided her through the steps effortlessly. Ginny had danced before—at weddings, at galas, at the Yule Ball all those years ago—but there was something different about this. About him. The way he moved, the way he held her just close enough to send a shiver down her spine but not close enough to scandalize the room.

"You clean up nicely, Malfoy," she said after a moment, her voice softer now.

"You're not so bad yourself, Weasley," he replied, his tone equally warm. His gaze flickered over her face, taking in the way the candlelight danced in her eyes. "That dress suits you."

Ginny felt a blush creep up her neck, but she held his gaze. "You're surprisingly charming tonight."

Draco leaned in slightly, his voice a low murmur. "Surprising seems to be the theme."

Her breath hitched. She was certain now—there was something in the air between them, something electric and charged, something neither of them had anticipated.

"I didn't know you were capable of being this smooth," she quipped, attempting to lighten the mood, but her voice came out softer than she intended.

Draco's smirk deepened as he spun her effortlessly. "That's because I save my best lines for special occasions."

Ginny scoffed, but she couldn't suppress her smile. "And I'm supposed to believe this is a special occasion?"

Draco's grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly as he pulled her a fraction closer. His voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Dancing with you, Weasley? I'd say that qualifies."

For the first time that evening, Ginny found herself momentarily speechless. He was flirting with her—properly, unashamedly—and the worst part was that she liked it.

The waltz continued, and neither of them spoke for a few moments. But they didn't have to. Every shift, every glance, every brush of fingers spoke volumes.

As the final notes of the song lingered in the air, Draco's hand at her waist lingered just a second longer than necessary before he finally released her. They stood still for a moment, the applause of the crowd fading into the background as they simply looked at each other.

Ginny swallowed, suddenly aware of just how close they had been. How close they still were.

"Thank you for the dance," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco's lips curled into a slow, almost lazy smile. "The pleasure was all mine."

Ginny turned to step away, but before she could fully retreat, she felt the ghost of Draco's fingers brushing against hers. It was the lightest of touches, fleeting and almost hesitant, but enough to send a jolt of something unfamiliar coursing through her veins.

She glanced back at him, her heart hammering.

Draco's eyes held hers, unreadable yet entirely too knowing.

Merlin help her. This was going to be trouble.

As Draco returned to his mother's side, Narcissa regarded him with a knowing smile, her fingers delicately wrapped around a glass of champagne.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself out there," she observed, her voice carrying the slightest hint of amusement.

Draco scoffed lightly, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. "It was… nice."

Narcissa let out a soft chuckle. "Nice? That's all you have to say?"

He shot her a wary glance. "Would you prefer a detailed analysis of my waltzing skills?"

She shook her head, her expression fond. "Ginny Weasley is a remarkable young woman."

Draco tensed slightly at the mention of Ginny's name, though he kept his expression neutral. "And?"

"And," Narcissa said, placing a gentle hand on his arm, "it's good to see you letting go of the past."

His jaw tightened. "I wasn't aware I was holding onto it."

Narcissa arched a delicate brow. "Oh, my dear, you hold onto it more than you realize." She studied him for a moment before continuing, her tone softer now. "Sometimes life surprises us with people we least expect. Don't let pride or fear keep you from something that could be wonderful."

Draco exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the dance floor. Ginny stood with her brothers, laughing at something George had said, her eyes bright, her entire presence effortlessly drawing people in.

Narcissa followed his gaze, her lips curling slightly. "Any girl would be lucky to have you, Draco. But if you never show her all you have to offer, how will she ever know?"

Draco hesitated, his mother's words settling into the spaces he wasn't sure he was ready to explore.

But as his gaze lingered on Ginny, he couldn't help but wonder—what if his mother was right?

Ginny stood near the refreshment table, attempting to enjoy her drink, but she wasn't alone for long. Charlie, Bill, and Ron flanked her in a semi-circle, their grins ranging from mischievous to downright skeptical. She barely had a moment to brace herself before Charlie leaned in with a smirk.

"So, Ginny," he drawled, his tone far too amused. "Did I just witness you waltzing with Draco Malfoy? Did you hit your head on a cauldron recently, or has the world finally gone mad?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, though she couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at her lips. "It was just a dance, Charlie. Don't get dramatic."

Bill crossed his arms, arching a brow. "Just a dance? Funny, because 'just a dance' doesn't usually involve that much eye contact."

"And it definitely doesn't involve Malfoy looking like he just discovered sunlight for the first time," Ron added, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Seriously, Gin, Malfoy? You couldn't have picked literally anyone else?"

Ginny swatted at Ron's arm. "Oh, stop being so ridiculous. He was polite, and it was a waltz, not a proposal."

Ron scoffed. "Malfoy doesn't do polite. What's his game?"

Charlie, who had been watching Ginny closely, finally stepped in, his tone lighter but firm. "Oh, give it a rest, you two. Ginny's a grown woman, not some kid you need to chase boys away from."

Bill frowned slightly. "We're just looking out for her."

"Yeah," Ron added. "And I'm not saying she can't handle herself, but—"

"But nothing," Charlie cut in, shaking his head. "I get it, we all grew up hating Malfoy, but people change. And if Ginny's willing to give him a chance—even for a dance—I say let her."

Ginny shot Charlie a grateful look as he smirked at his younger brothers.

"And besides," he continued with a chuckle, "you both saw the way Malfoy was looking at her. Poor bloke was one wrong step away from combusting on the spot."

Ginny groaned, her face heating. "You lot are impossible."

Charlie grinned and clapped her on the shoulder. "That's what brothers are for."

As her brothers bickered and laughed, Ginny shook her head, but their words lingered in her mind. Maybe they weren't entirely wrong.

—-

Somewhere else in Hogwarts -

The air between Hermione and Blaise was charged. Their project was nearing its conclusion, and the weight of unspoken feelings hung heavy in the air.

"Blaise, we did it," Hermione said, her excitement shining through as walked along the Astronomy tower.

"Of course we did," Blaise said, his usual confidence tempered by something softer. "I always knew we would. You're brilliant."

Hermione looked up at him, her cheeks flushing. "You're not so bad yourself."

Blaise stepped closer, his usual smirk replaced with sincerity. "Hermione... I'm going to miss this. Working with you. Seeing you every day."

Her breath hitched. "I'm going to miss it too."

They stood there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words.

Finally, Blaise spoke. "You drive me crazy, Granger. But in the best possible way."

Hermione smiled, her eyes shining. "You're infuriating, Zabini. But I wouldn't have it any other way."

With that, Blaise closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that felt as natural as it was inevitable. When they pulled apart, Hermione laughed softly.

"Took you long enough," she teased.

Blaise grinned. "I was waiting for the right moment."

"Good thing I didn't hex you first," Hermione replied, her tone playful but her eyes warm.

Their partnership had ended, but something new had begun, and neither of them had any intention of letting it go.

The cool night air curled around Ginny as she wandered deeper into the garden, the distant hum of the ball fading behind her. Fairy lights twinkled above, casting a golden glow over the hedges and delicate blooms, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still spinning from the events of the evening—the waltz, the way Draco had looked at her, the way it had made her feel.

"Escaping already?"

The voice sent a shiver down her spine—smooth, deep, unmistakably Draco.

She turned to find him leaning casually against the marble archway, his tuxedo jacket undone, his tie loosened, the picture of effortless elegance. But it was his eyes that held her captive—piercing, unreadable, locked onto her with an intensity that made her pulse stutter.

"Something like that," she replied, lifting her chin. "Needed a moment away from my brothers and their endless commentary."

Draco smirked as he stepped closer. "Let me guess—interrogation about our dance?"

Ginny sighed dramatically. "Oh, you know. Just the usual protect-the-youngest-Weasley nonsense. Apparently, waltzing with you is a cause for national concern."

Draco chuckled. "I should be flattered, then. Seems I've made quite the impression."

She arched an eyebrow. "Don't let it go to your head."

Draco took another slow step toward her, and suddenly, the garden felt smaller, the air between them charged with something unspoken. "And what about you?" he asked, voice low. "Did I make an impression on you, Weasley?"

Ginny swallowed, heat creeping up her neck. "I—" She hesitated, hating that he could unnerve her so easily. "I didn't expect you to be a good dancer, that's all."

Draco hummed, tilting his head. "You keep underestimating me. I'm beginning to think you enjoy being surprised."

Ginny let out a breathless laugh, but before she could respond, Draco reached out—his fingers skimming lightly over her wrist before curling around it, holding her still. The touch was subtle, but it sent a jolt of electricity up her arm.

"Draco—"

"Ginny." Her name on his lips sent another shiver through her. His thumb brushed against the inside of her wrist, and she swore he could feel how fast her pulse was racing.

"You're different tonight," she murmured, barely recognizing her own voice.

"So are you," he countered, his gaze locked onto hers. "Or maybe I'm just seeing you properly for the first time."

The way he looked at her—like she was something rare, something worth savoring—made it hard to breathe. His hand slid up from her wrist, along her arm, until his fingers barely traced the curve of her shoulder. Ginny felt frozen in place, caught between the urge to step closer and the instinct to flee.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Malfoy," she whispered, though there was no real warning in her voice.

Draco smirked, but there was something softer in his expression. "And yet, you haven't stepped away."

Ginny knew she should. She knew this was teetering on the edge of something neither of them could take back. But she didn't move.

He lifted a hand, tucking a stray curl behind her ear, the pads of his fingers grazing her skin in a touch so gentle it was almost reverent. "You are—" He paused, exhaling sharply, as if weighing whether to say the words at all. "—breathtaking."

Ginny's heart pounded. "You really have perfected this whole charming thing, haven't you?" she tried to tease, but her voice betrayed her, coming out softer, more vulnerable.

Draco's gaze flickered to her lips. "You think I'm pretending?" His voice was barely above a whisper now.

The tension between them was unbearable, every breath charged, every inch of space humming with something unspoken. She was aware of every part of him—the way he smelled like cedarwood and firewhiskey, the way his hand lingered near her waist as if waiting for permission to pull her closer.

She should say something, break the spell. But then his thumb ghosted over her cheek, the touch so light it was almost maddening, and all coherent thought fled her mind.

"You deserve someone who sees you," Draco murmured, his voice rough with something raw and unguarded. "Exactly as you are."

Ginny's breath hitched, her chest tightening with something she couldn't name.

And then—he leaned in, achingly close, but not quite kissing her, as if waiting for her to make the final move.

The world tilted.

But just as she felt herself swaying forward, just as the anticipation curled tight in her stomach, reality came crashing back. She sucked in a sharp breath and stepped back, breaking the spell.

"Draco, I—"

Before she could finish, he reached for her hand, his grip firm but not forceful, his eyes searching hers.

"Don't run from this," he said softly, almost pleading.

Her heart thundered. "I don't know what this is."

"Ginny, I-"

He wanted to tell her then, tell her that he was her pen pal. That after seeing her through her letters, he felt his prejudices fall away, that he was starting to fall for her.. Ask if she felt the same way… if she was falling for him too.

Draco held her gaze for a long moment, then exhaled. He leaned in, her faint jasmine smell mesmerizing him. He inhaled deeply, trying to control his feelings. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let go. He bent his head, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her into him. She shuddered against him, revealing her awareness of what was brewing between them. She wasn't as indifferent as she portrayed. HE grinned, and leaned in to touch his lips to her forehead. He felt her exhale and gently touch his back, slowly returning his embrace. A strange peace entered his body, like he was finally where he was meant to be. But they had too much between them, too much they needed to discuss. Stepping back slowly, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing the faintest kiss to her knuckles, a lingering touch that sent fire through her veins.

Then, with one last lingering look, he let her go.

Ginny stood there long after he had disappeared back into the ballroom, her pulse still pounding, her skin still burning where he had touched her.

She didn't know what this was.

But Merlin, she wanted to find out.

So how was it?