Draco was lost. His thoughts, his memories, were poisoning his body. He was weak, weakened by the war, by his father; by all he had done. By all he had refused to do. Harry noticed. He longed to help, to rest a reassuring hand upon the blondes shoulder. Draco needed comfort, an escape. Maybe Harry could be that escape. Rights to J.K.Rowling, for the creation of the characters, possessions, spells, and all things Harry Potter related in this story.All Rights Reserved