Draco had never before interacted so much with someone that didn’t have ulterior motives, or wasn’t secretly plotting to do him some sort of harm, or gain some sort of control over him. He – he didn’t think he’d ever had a friend. Not that Hermione was a friend, he reminded himself, but... He’d had cronies, lackeys, servants, allies, but never a real, actual friend. Draco didn’t even know how to be just genuinely nice to people.