He took her hand before he could stop himself, or even realize that was what he'd planned to do. He took her hand and bowed over it, giving her the gentleman's greeting that a lady deserved. "Walk with me," he said as he straightened up, releasing her fingers with reluctance. "The garden, walk with me." He cast a sidelong glance at Bluebottle and tipped his head. Pansy would understand.
The paths through the garden were lined with phosphorescent stones, with small lanterns at each corner and crossway to guide their feet. Draco hardly needed them. The paths were as familiar to him as the lines in his palms, and he knew they were almost as familiar to Pansy. His oldest friend, and the one person outside of his blood he treated as if she were his blood. He trusted her. He cared about her.
He led her through the garden in silence, walking close beside her, and took her into the tall hedges. Around a corner, down a short gravel path, and between two giant yews that had been clipped and trained into the shape of serpents. Past them was a small clearing, with a miniature fountain, a handful of night-flowering bushes, and a low bench. Most importantly, it was well out of eyesight. It was private, and safe. Draco turned to Pansy as soon as they were within the hedge-walls. "I missed you," he said quietly, unwilling to dance around just then.