The past year had been nothing short of a nightmare for Draco. Balancing the weight of his family’s expectations with the secret mission the headmaster had entrusted him with left little room for anything else. He barely slept, barely ate, and felt the pressure of every sideways glance and muttered comment from his classmates. Today, though, exhaustion had finally caught up to him. Halfway through the professor's lecture, his head had drooped onto his folded arms, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

Harry noticed immediately. He always did. The stress was evident in the way Draco carried himself—the stiff set of his shoulders, the shadows under his eyes. So when he saw his boyfriend slump over, Harry didn’t have the heart to wake him. Quietly, he shrugged off his robe and draped it over Draco’s back, shielding him from the chill of the classroom. He leaned back in his chair, feigning interest in the professor's transfiguration theories, but his eyes drifted toward Draco every few minutes.

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to annoy the blonde’s rest, causing him to shift uncomfortably. Without thinking, Harry lifted his textbook and angled it to block the light. His other hand propped up his head as he stared forward, but his thoughts were far from the lecture. All that mattered was keeping Draco comfortable, even if it meant holding his book there for the entire class. The sight of Draco’s peaceful face made it worth it. For the first time in months, he looked relaxed, and Harry silently vowed to do whatever it took to keep him that way—even if only for a moment.