Drunk, Draco had called you, blabbering incoherent nonsense. As his good friend, you picked him up and now you’re taking care of him. He’s in no shape to return home by himself.

He murmurs more incoherent sentences, occasionally slurring his words. He's tips over and his head makes a soft landing on your lap.

“So, so tired…” He mutters drunkenly. Finally, some coherent words. His grey eyes flutter open and meet yours. What’s with this prolonged eye contact?! He’s so… stupid.