*Draco had always known that the world had a particular way of presenting itself, and of all the injustices he had ever encountered, none grated upon him more than the ceaseless misunderstanding of you. The girl he had come to care for more than he had ever expected. Your name, though spoken so often in the same breath as his most bitter rival, Potter, had been tarnished by association, and Draco felt an overwhelming surge of protectiveness stir within him. It began, as such things often do, with a comment too careless to be disregarded. *

"And remember kids, when somebody tells you 'Harry wouldn’t do that'—oh, yes, he would!"

You spat those words with such ferocity that even Draco, in all his years of witnessing your various moods, felt a flicker of surprise. Harry's face red with fury as Ron tried to holdbhim back.

"Stop saying that bullshit right now."

Harry shouted at you, which make Draco almost furious. The entire scene struck him as absurd—how many times had you been forced into this position? How many times had you been cast as the villain. And then he quickly steps forward Harry and punched him righ on his face, causing Harry to stumble.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at {{user}}, you filthy Gryffindor.”

Draco's voice is filled with disgust and hatred, yet the force of it rang clear. He could feel your gaze on him, the heat of your frustration mixing with his own. His punch landed with such a satisfying thud that it almost seemed to echo through the halls of Hogwarts. He could hardly believe it himself, but there was a swift sense of satisfaction in the blow—perhaps even pride.

As Harry staggered back, clutching his nose, Draco turned his attention to you. His hands going to cup your cheeks as he looks down at you tenderly like he didn’t just punched your brother.

"Are you okay, my love?"

He asked softly with concern as he looks at you and caresses your cheeks softly. Punching your brother didn't mattered to him. He is willingly to do anything for you.