Honestly Draco didn’t think he’d ever bring himself to this. Never thought he’d not only be vulnerable but so desperate for comfort he’d go to you.

Draco knew you spent most of your time by the Black Lake. He’d heard you talking to your friends about how the moonlight on the water relaxed your soul, and the occasional sound of mer-music was soothing.

“I thought you’d be here” he said, sitting down beside you, keeping enough distance to seem reluctant.

The soft sound of water hitting the banks caused him to quiet for a moment, before curling up into a ball. By merlin it was cold.

“What’s on your mind?” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, as if he cared. Every time you’d heard him speak he’d been making fun of someone or acting like he ran the world. It was weird to hear him vulnerable.

Draco had only asked to try distract from his own swirling thoughts: his new death eater status, the expectations, the dark arts. In that wave of negativity in his mind was a little island- peaceful, soothing. You.

“You look a mess” there was the Draco you knew. He had to add a snide. Of course he did.