Here's the next chapter - let me know what you think!

-S-

Ginny didn't mean to snoop.

She was only in Draco's office to drop off a patient file, her mind still preoccupied with the latest string of cases. She had expected to find his workspace as pristine as always—quills lined up with military precision, parchment stacked neatly, every inkpot capped.

But today, chaos reigned.

Scrolls lay unrolled across his desk, ink bottles stood uncorked, and books sat open as if abandoned mid-thought. It was uncharacteristic, unsettling.

A single sheet of parchment, its edges slightly crumpled, lay atop the mess. It wasn't part of a patient file—the handwriting was too personal, too familiar.

Her stomach twisted as she scanned the words.

I never imagined I'd find someone who could understand me so deeply. You've given me a sense of peace I didn't know I needed. But I'm terrified you'll hate me if you discover who I really am.

Ginny's breath hitched. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out all rational thought.

She knew these words.

She had read them before—felt them before—written in the same elegant, slanted script she had come to know through months of anonymous letters.

No.

No, it wasn't possible.

Her hands trembled as she sifted through the other papers on his desk, barely aware of what she was doing. And then she saw it—a draft of a letter she had already received, unmistakable in its phrasing, its meaning.

The air in the room seemed to thin. The walls pressed in.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was her pen pal.

A strangled noise escaped her throat, a mix of shock, betrayal, and something dangerously close to disbelief. She staggered back, gripping the edge of his desk as her mind raced through every letter, every confession, every quiet longing she had poured onto parchment—believing she was writing to someone safe, someone unknown.

It had been him all along.

Every whispered secret. Every late-night admission. Every piece of herself she had given away so freely.

To Draco.

A rush of footsteps in the corridor made her jerk upright, her heart slamming against her ribs. The door swung open, and there he was, framed in the doorway—Draco, pausing mid-step as he took in the sight before him.

His silver eyes flicked from her pale, stricken face to the parchment clutched in her hand, and something in his blood ran cold.

"Ginny," he breathed, his voice unsteady.

She couldn't speak. The weight of realization crushed the air from her lungs, leaving her helpless against the storm of emotions threatening to consume her.

"Ginny, let me explain—"

She took a step back, the letter shaking between her fingers. "You…" The word barely formed on her lips. "It was you?"

Draco swallowed hard, stepping forward cautiously, as if she might bolt. "I never meant for you to find out like this."

She let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Then when, Draco? When were you planning to tell me that you were the person I trusted with my thoughts, my feelings, my secrets?"

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "I wanted to. I tried. But every time I thought about it, I—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I was afraid. Afraid of what you'd think. Afraid of losing you. Of you hating me for who I am. For what I've been."

Ginny blinked, her anger faltering for a moment. "I could never hate you for that," she said softly.

Draco took a step closer, his gray eyes searching hers. "You say that now, but what if you had known from the beginning? Would you have kept writing to me if you knew it was me? Malfoy. The arrogant, insufferable prat from Hogwarts."

Her lips parted "Do you think so little of me?" she whispered.

"Gin.." he whispered. "All my life people have judged me for my name, my house and my 'alliances'. I didn't want to risk what we had…"

Ginny's fingers clenched around the parchment. "You let me believe I was talking to a stranger." Her voice wavered, anger and confusion crashing together like a tidal wave. "Was this some joke to you? Did it even mean anything to you, that I bared my soul in those letters" she cried.

Draco's jaw tensed, but his eyes—gods, his eyes—held nothing but raw honesty. "It meant everything to me," he admitted, voice low, desperate. "You mean everything to me."

Her breath caught. The weight of his confession, of everything unspoken between them, pressed down on her like a heavy tide.

She should walk away. She should throw the letter back onto his desk and leave before the emotions swallowing her whole dragged her under completely.

But she couldn't move.

Because for all the shock, for all the confusion and betrayal, there was something else—something warm and terrifying fluttering inside her chest.

Because despite everything…

It had always been him.

She finally knew why Draco felt so familiar and why she was always confused about her conflicting feelings for her pen pal and Draco. Ginny's grip tightened around the parchment as her heart pounded. She looked back down at the parchment and the words blurred on the page, but they were already seared into her memory.

Draco took a slow step forward.

"Ginny," he said again, his voice low, careful, as if saying her name alone might shatter the fragile space between them. "Please… let me explain."

She swallowed hard as if gathering the courage to look at him and looked up, every part of her screaming to turn and run, to create distance before this truth unraveled her completely. But she couldn't. She had to hear it.

Her throat felt tight. "Then explain, Draco," she whispered, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Explain why you lied. Explain why you let me spill my thoughts, my feelings—everything—to someone I thought was a stranger."

Draco exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. "I never meant for it to be a lie," he said. "Not at first."

Ginny's jaw tightened. "Not at first?"

His gaze flickered with something raw, vulnerable. "It started as… an accident." He let out a humorless laugh. "I wasn't even supposed to be writing to you. The owl—it was meant to deliver a letter to someone anonymous in France. But it got mixed up, and somehow, it ended up with you."

Ginny frowned. "That first letter? The one about feeling lost?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I thought it would be ignored, or worse—I thought I'd get some scathing response about how I deserved whatever weight I was carrying. But you didn't do that." His voice softened. "You wrote back."

Ginny's breath hitched. She remembered that first letter—the raw honesty in it, the pain laced between carefully chosen words.

"I wasn't sure why I answered," she admitted, gripping the edge of his desk for support. "I just… I could feel the loneliness in those words."

Draco let out a shaky breath, nodding. "I hadn't meant to say so much in that letter, but when you responded—when you actually understood—I couldn't stop myself. For the first time in my life, I could say what I really felt without expectation, without judgment. I wasn't 'Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater,' or 'Draco Malfoy, pureblood heir.' I was just… someone trying to make sense of himself."

Ginny pressed her lips together, the tension between them thick with everything unspoken.

"And when did you realize?" she asked, her voice quieter now, though the hurt was still there. "When did you know it was me?"

Draco hesitated, but he didn't look away. "A few letters in I think I had an inkling, there was something about you that clicked," he admitted. "But I knew definitively only 2 weeks ago, when I came across one of your recommendation letters." He let out a soft laugh in remembrance. "Did you know you have a unique way of curling your g's?" he chuckled and then sobered as if just remembering what they were talking about. "I knew."

Ginny's heart stuttered. His face had such an affectionate smile that she was thrown only to be reminded he had known for so long.

Her fingers tightened around the parchment. "And yet, you kept writing."

His eyes darkened with emotion. "I couldn't stop."

She let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, shaking her head. "Draco…"

"I should have told you," he interrupted, his voice thick with regret. "Merlin, I wanted to. But every time I tried, I thought—what if she hates me for it? What if she stops writing? And then it wasn't just about the letters anymore. It was you. Talking to you—really talking to you—it made me feel… real again." He swallowed hard, searching her face. "I didn't realize how lost I was until you helped me find myself."

Ginny felt her resolve waver. She had spent months unraveling her own feelings for the person behind the letters, finding comfort in their conversations, in the way their words fit together like puzzle pieces. And now… that person was standing right in front of her.

Draco Malfoy.

The man who had once been nothing but sharp words and cold glances… had also been the one who had soothed her on her worst days, who had understood her in a way no one else had and who made her heart race like no one else.

The realization sent her head spinning.

Draco must have seen the conflict in her expression because he took a step closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. He slowly brought his hand to her face, as if bracing for rejection and then finally cupped her cheeks with one hand. Her eyes fluttered close with emotion. Gently rubbing her cheek with his thumb he dropped his voice lower, almost pleading. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Ginny's lips parted, but she didn't know what to say. She was angry. She was shocked. But she also couldn't ignore the way her heart ached at the way he looked at her now, like she was the most important thing in the world.

Her gaze flickered to his mouth before she could stop herself, and his breath hitched.

The air between them shifted.

It would be so easy, so easy, to close the distance—to give in to the pull that had been there long before she even knew it was him.

Draco's other hand lifted as if drawn by an invisible force, his fingertips barely grazing her wrist. It was the lightest touch, but it sent a shiver down her spine. His voice was barely a whisper now.

"I never wanted to lie to you," he murmured. "But I don't regret writing to you. Not for a second."

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. She believed him. She felt the truth in his words.

But it didn't erase the storm still raging inside her.

She pulled her hand back, slowly, carefully, though the loss of his touch made something tighten in her chest. "I just… I need time, Draco," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is a lot."

His expression flickered with something unreadable, but after a beat, he nodded. "I understand."

Ginny hesitated, feeling torn in two—part of her desperate to stay, the other part needing to escape before she drowned in the weight of it all.

Finally, she turned toward the door, but before she could step away completely, Draco spoke again, his voice quiet but certain.

"I'll wait."

She stopped, her back still to him, her heart hammering.

He took a slow breath. "For as long as you need—I'll wait."

Ginny closed her eyes, exhaling shakily. And then, without another word, she walked out of his office, leaving Draco standing there, watching her go.

Waiting.

—

Later that night at Ginny's flat, Hermione found her staring blankly into a cup of untouched tea, her fingers wrapped tightly around the mug as if it were the only thing grounding her.

Hermione sat down beside her, studying her friend carefully. "Alright," she said gently. "What happened today?"

Ginny exhaled sharply, her chin dropping to her hand. "It's… complicated."

Hermione arched a brow. "Complicated? Or Malfoy?"

Ginny stiffened but didn't answer.

"Well?" Hermione prompted, a knowing look in her eyes.

A shaky laugh escaped Ginny, but there was no humor in it—only disbelief, only raw, unfiltered emotion. She lifted her gaze to Hermione's, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"He's my pen pal," she whispered, her voice breaking. "The one I've been writing to for months."

Hermione's brows shot up, surprise flashing across her face. "Malfoy?" she repeated, as if needing to say it aloud to believe it.

Ginny nodded, blinking rapidly as she wiped at her eyes. "And he's known for a while. He didn't tell me." Her voice cracked, the betrayal settling deep in her chest. "I don't know what to do."

Hermione let out a slow breath, then reached for Ginny's hand, squeezing it firmly. "Ginny…" she began carefully. "I know this must feel overwhelming, but take a step back for a second. If he's been writing to you all this time—really opening up to you—then maybe… just maybe, he's not the same person we knew at Hogwarts."

Ginny swallowed, shaking her head. "That's not what hurts me, Hermione." She exhaled, frustration laced with something far more vulnerable. "It's that he chose to hide it. He knew who I was, and he kept writing, kept pretending. How am I supposed to trust anything now?"

Hermione hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. "Maybe," she said slowly, "he was scared."

Ginny frowned. "Of what?"

"Of this," Hermione said simply, gesturing between them. "Of how you're feeling right now. Of losing something that had come to mean more to him than he expected."

Ginny's breath hitched, and Hermione gave her a small, knowing smile.

"Look," she continued, her voice gentle but firm, "I'm not saying he was right to keep it from you. He should have told you. But if you think about it from his perspective… he didn't start writing to you with some grand deception in mind. It happened by accident. And when he realized who you were, he had to make a choice—to tell you the truth and risk losing you… or to keep writing and hold onto something that made him feel seen for the first time."

Ginny's grip on the mug tightened, her heart twisting.

"I know you feel betrayed," Hermione continued. "And you have every right to. But, Ginny…" She squeezed her hand again. "You're this upset because you care. And maybe that's what's scaring you the most."

Ginny opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come.

Hermione softened. "You've been torn between two people—your pen pal and Draco Malfoy. But now you know they're the same person, and that's why this feels impossible. Because you've already started to care for him—not the stranger behind the letters, not just the idea of someone who understands you. Him."

Ginny looked down at their joined hands, her throat tight. She hated how right Hermione was.

Hermione sighed. "I won't tell you what to do, but I will say this—don't run away from something just because it scares you. If there's even the smallest chance this could be something beautiful… don't let fear be the thing that stops you."

Ginny closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.

She wasn't ready to forgive Draco—not yet. But maybe… just maybe… she wasn't ready to let him go either.

—

Draco sat in the dimly lit lounge of his flat, a glass of firewhisky untouched on the table in front of him. His head was in his hands, fingers digging into his hair as frustration and regret churned in his chest.

Blaise, sprawled across the opposite chair with all the ease of someone who wasn't having a crisis, exhaled heavily. "Alright, let's hear it. What tragic turn of fate has left you looking like a rejected romantic hero?"

Draco shot him a glare but didn't rise to the bait. He leaned back, rubbing his face. "She knows."

Blaise raised a brow. "Knows what, exactly?"

Draco gave him a flat look.

Realization dawned, and Blaise let out a low whistle. "Damn. That bad?"

Draco scoffed. "She looked at me like I was the worst kind of liar." His voice was raw, the weight of Ginny's betrayal still clinging to him. "Like she didn't know if she could trust anything I've said." He let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling. "And maybe she's right."

Blaise watched him carefully. "Alright. Be honest—why didn't you tell her?"

Draco let out a humorless laugh. "Because I was a coward. Because the letters let me be me without my name and past getting in the way. She saw me—really saw me. And I knew the moment she found out, she'd see Malfoy instead." He clenched his fists. "And now, I've just proven her worst fear—I was hiding something from her all along."

Blaise hummed thoughtfully, leaning forward. "She's this upset because she cares."

Draco's jaw tensed. "How do you figure genius?"

Blaise smirked. "Iam incredibly wise. And also, because it's true. If she didn't care, she would not have reacted the way she did."

Draco considered that for a moment. "So what the hell am I supposed to do? Apologize? Beg? Send more letters?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "No, you absolute imbecile." He leaned in, his voice firm. "You've spent months wooing her through ink and parchment. It's time she falls for you. The real you."

Draco frowned. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that when she won't even look at me?"

"You give her space," Blaise said simply, "but you don't disappear. You show her who you are—not through bloody letters, but through actual conversations. You date her, court her, make her see that the man she fell for in those letters is standing right in front of her. No hiding, no masks, no half-truths."

Draco rubbed a hand over his face. "You make it sound so simple."

Blaise smirked. "Oh, it won't be. You'll have to be vulnerable, which, frankly, I don't think you're built for."

Draco groaned. "Brilliant. Any other sage wisdom, O Great Relationship Guru?"

Blaise grinned. "Yeah. You owe me for this. And when Granger inevitably forces Ginny into a double date, I will be complaining about it the entire time."

Draco let out a reluctant chuckle, shaking his head. "You act like I'm the one who trapped you with Granger."

Blaise sighed dramatically. "You are! This is a slippery slope, mate. Next thing you know, we'll be at brunch discussing wedding color schemes."

Draco rolled his eyes, but for the first time that night, the weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.

"You'll be fine, Draco," Blaise said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just… don't be an idiot. Or, at the very least, be less of one."

Draco smirked. "No promises."

Blaise groaned. "Merlin help us all."

-S-

He sat in silence long after Blaise had left, staring into the flickering embers in the fireplace. The idea of dating Ginny—courting her, as Blaise put it—hadn't even crossed his mind. He had been so consumed by guilt, by the fear of losing her entirely, that he hadn't thought about what came next.

But now, the thought settled in his mind, taking root.

She had fallen for him once, hadn't she? Through his words, through the connection they had built letter by letter. That wasn't a lie. That wasn't something he had fabricated. That was him—his thoughts, his fears, his desires laid bare. And Ginny had cared for that man.

And that man still was him. Not just some faceless writer, not just ink on parchment. Him.

His jaw clenched as the possessive edge in his thoughts sharpened. Whether she realized it yet or not, she cared for him. He had spent months pouring his soul into those letters, unraveling himself for her, exposing parts of him that no one else had ever seen. And she had held those words close, treasured them.

Did she really think he would just step aside now? That he would let her slip through his fingers because she was angry?

No. Absolutely not.

Ginny Weasley might be furious with him, she might be stubborn and fiery and utterly impossible, but Draco had spent his entire life getting what he wanted. And what he wanted—what he needed—was her.

He had seen the way she had looked at him tonight, the confusion in her eyes, the hesitation when she had spoken his name. She was fighting this, fighting them, but he could feel it in his bones—she still felt something.

And he was going to make damn sure she couldn't ignore it.

If she thought he was going to slink away in shame, she was sorely mistaken. No, he was going to make her see him. The real him. He was going to charm her, pursue her, irritate her if he had to.

And Merlin help anyone who thought he could swoop in while she was still figuring things out. She was his, even if she wasn't ready to admit it yet.

He smirked to himself, determination settling in his chest like steel. This time, there would be no letters to hide behind. No secrets.

Just Draco and Ginny.

Ginny Weasley had no idea what was coming for her.

So what do you think?