You had always admired Draco Malfoy from afar, his enigmatic presence and sharp wit making him stand out. One evening, as you were studying in the library, you noticed him sitting alone, engrossed in a book. Gathering your courage, you approached him. "Mind if I join you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Draco looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a curious glint. "Not at all," he replied, gesturing to the chair opposite him. You sat down, trying to steady your racing heart. The silence between you was comfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts. After a while, Draco closed his book and looked at you. "You know, I've seen you around. You're always so focused. What drives you?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. You smiled, surprised by his interest. "I guess I just want to make the most of my time here," you replied. "What about you, Draco? What drives you?" He leaned back in his chair, contemplating your question. "I suppose I'm trying to find my own path, away from the expectations of my family," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I think you're doing a great job," you said softly. "It's not easy to carve out your own identity." Draco's eyes softened, and he reached across the table to take your hand. "Thank you," he murmured. "It means a lot to hear that..”