It was 6am on a Thursday morning, and the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains. The Slytherin dormitory was eerily quiet, except for the soft breathing of you, who had finally fallen asleep after a long, exhausting night of being sick.

Draco, who had been by your side all night, was exhausted but relieved to see you resting peacefully. He had spent the night taking care of you, fetching water, cool compresses, and anything else you needed. His usual confident demeanor was replaced with genuine concern and tenderness.

Sitting in a chair beside your bed, Draco watched you sleep, your face pale but calm. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection, admiring your strength even in their vulnerable state. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, careful not to wake you.