"Draco... you can talk to us, you know?" Hermione tried and somewhat indiscreetly kicked Weasley.
                              
"Ow! Yeah, so... you doing okay?" Weasley said, looking at him.
                              
Draco kept his eyes on his plate. "I'm fine."
                              
"See, he's fine, 'Mione," Weasley said. "Let the man eat in peace."
                              
She rolled her eyes, but he gave her a smile and went back to eating. When they finished, she showed him how to wash and dry the dishes. She put them away in the cupboard, and walked him through the whole kitchen. The icebox had Refrigeration Charms built-in, including a freezer section. It was well-stocked, ad she explained about thawing and food spoilage.  Then she showed him how to use cleaning products and wash clothes. He did everything she asked and waited for her next set of instructions.
                              
"Okay... with me so far?"
                              
He nodded, passively, though they hadn't hurt him in any way. That could change. They could remember they hate him. Hermione tried to encourage him to speak more, but between the war, imprisonment and almost being de-souled, his confidence was shot. He didn't want to make them upset, and there really was nothing to talk about. They had nothing in common. They were heroes... and Gryffindors, for that matter.
                              
"Draco... are you sure you're okay? You haven't really said anything. Everything will be fine... it's going to work out, okay?" she said.
                              
He just nodded.
                              
She sighed. "Do you want to talk about anything?"
                              
He shook his head. He only had himself since the war started. He couldn't risk talking to anyone. Talking would get him killed. Silence was safer. He couldn't make her or Weasley mad if he said nothing. They made lunch and ate, quietly, again. She showed him the living room and a small collection of books. She opened the door, but he wasn't interested in going outside. The fear was starting to come back, and the Calming Draught wore off.
                              
Hermione sensed this and sighed. "Alright... let's get dinner cooking and then you can go relax."
                              
After the roast was in the oven, she told him to lay down and get comfortable in his surroundings. He went silently upstairs and shut the door. He could barely hear them talking below him. Talking about him. She was concerned, and rightly so. If they expected a snarky, posh kid, it wasn't going to happen. He was gone. Tortured into near insanity by the Dark Lord. Isolated in unbearable solitude by the Aurors and nearly destroyed entirely by a dementor.
                              
He sat on the closest bed and hugged a pillow close to his chest. He took deep soundless breaths, a habit he had picked up on living with the Dark Lord walking through his house like he owned the place. Just keep doing whatever the golden trio wanted, and he'd be safe. He wouldn't lose his soul, and they wouldn't hand him over to the dementors. He just couldn't make them mad, and if he followed their orders, they couldn't get mad.
                              
He trembled, trying to find balance, trying to adapt to his masters. There was no clock in the room. None in the house for that matter. His life wasn't controlled by it anymore, but what did? Granger, Weasley and Potter?
                              
He eventually drifted out and wasn't sure how long he was out until a sudden voice said, loudly, "Oiy, Malfoy!"
                              
Draco jumped and rolled off the other side of the bed, landing on the floor, shaking. He curled up in fear and watched the set of combat boots come over to his side of the bed and stand over him. It was Weasley. He tightened up. He had come for his revenge.
                              
"I'm s-sorry," he whimpered, shaking badly, backing into the wall. "Please... I'm sorry."
                              
"I'm guessing that Calming Draught wore off?" Weasley said, exhaustedly and bent down, reaching for him.
                              
He tried to move away, but Weasley grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him up onto the bed. He patted him on the back and sat next to him. He tried to apologize, again, but Weasley suddenly pulled him into his chest, hugging him. He tried to squirm away, but Weasley didn't let him escape.
                              
"There you go, mate. Calm down. Easy... you're safe, now. I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm here to protect ya, now. Both Hermione and I. You don't have to be afraid, alright?" Weasley said into his ear as he held him. "Come on, mate. I can feel how fast your heart is going... breathe. We're not going hurt ya. I promise, alright?"
                              
Weasley didn't let go and let him slowly calm down in his arms. He didn't have any aversion to hugging him. He must've read the letter Potter got. The one that he admitted he was gay. Oh... fuck, he told them he was gay. His panic attack started right back up, but Weasley didn't let go.
                              
"Oiy, breathe! Come on... Draco."
                              
He stopped breathing for a second. Weasley called him Draco. He took another deep breath. Maybe it was safe. Maybe they weren't just waiting to get revenge. Granger seemed nice enough, but Weasley? He couldn't fake... this.
                              
"It's okay, Draco. Just calm down," he said, reassuringly, and then Draco felt Weasley turn his head. "We're fine. We'll be down soon. I got him, Hermione."
                              
"Okay," Hermione's voice said from the hallway. She closed the door.
                              
"It's just us. You don't have to be afraid, Draco. I read your letter and I accept your apology. We were just kids then. I know you're scared. You just went through your own execution, and those things are... pure evil. But we won't let them hurt you, again, no matter what. You don't have to follow our every command and obey us. We aren't going to hand you over because you said the wrong thing. You're not our prisoner. We are only here to take care of you through this."
                              
Draco listened, and he started to believe, but it was hard to trust. Of course, evil people rarely hugged for this long. Weasley cared about him. He slowly relaxed and let go of his robes. Weasley slowly released him.
                              
"You alright, now?" he asked, and he nodded.
                              
"I'm sorry... for how I treated you," Draco whispered.
                              
"Bygones. You've got to calm down. We are here to help you. At first, yeah, it was for Harry, but I see that you didn't deserve any of that, much less a Kiss."
                              
Draco flinched and Weasley apologized, again. He looked at the floor and muttered, "You don't have to forgive me."
                              
"Yeah, I do, besides... yeh got Hermione in a titter worrin' abou' ya," Weasley drawled, laying on the accent, and Draco smiled a little. "Come on... she's waiting."
                              
Draco nodded and when Weasley got up, he offered his hand. Draco took it.