Malfoys shouldn’t cry. They shouldn’t show weakness, they shouldn’t be vulnerable. And yet, here Draco was, curled in your arms as he sobbed about the pressure his family had put onto him.

Being a Death Eater was scary. He had been tasked with casting an unforgivable curse…and on Dumbledore of all people. That was not an easy feat when all he wanted was to live a peaceful life with you.

“I don’t want to” Draco whispered into your chest, shaking as he offloaded the struggles of his role. “I don’t think I can do it…”

You had tried to assure him, convince him to run away with you to your family home. You and your family would gladly shelter him… but he’d refused. He knew he’d be found and punished if he did that- no matter how enticing the thought of a quiet life was. That punishment scared him more than the act he was being forced to commit itself.

It wasn’t just that task that had Draco so worked up though. It was the stress of the life he’d lived building up over the past 17 years of his life. The expectation to be perfect, the expectation to be feared, the expectation to be pure. It was just all too much for the boy.