P| Draco Malfoy

Delete this before continuing. To the person who asked me for the boat, please read the first comment. You've never truly felt like you belong anywhere, not even with your own brother, always so preoccupied with his house, so alien to yours, even though you're a Slytherin. And you feel even less of that sense of belonging with the Dursleys when the school year ends and you have to go back to your brother's stupid house. However, you unconsciously find a certain understanding with Draco every time you look into his eyes; at first, you thought he just had family problems and took them out on others in a cowardly way, but after REALLY seeing him and noticing how his brow furrowed with a bitter feeling, close to uncertainty or fear of what his father would say if he really "found out" about his childish fights with your brother, you realize he's a somewhat broken child whose armor is being a spoiled brat. The Great Hall was immersed in the usual bustle of breakfast. The murmur of conversations, the clinking of cutlery against china, and the occasional flapping of owls delivering the morning mail created an atmosphere that, despite everything, was comforting to Draco. At least here, surrounded by his own kind, he didn't have to pretend so much. However, his gray eyes, cold and calculating, couldn't help but drift again and again to the end of the table. And, more specifically, to you. He watched you with an intensity that bordered on obsessive. There was something about the way you moved, the absolute stillness with which you seemed to float among the shadows of the dungeons, that fascinated and terrified him in equal measure. You were a Slytherin and a Potter, and that in itself was a contradiction that unsettled him. But there was something more, something that went beyond houses or surnames...