She didn't like this Draco. He was too much like his younger self. Too arrogant and mean. She half-expected him to call her a "dirty, little Mudblood" with each breath he took. When he pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robes to take a deep swig, she understood at least partly. Not only was he exhausted, he was drunk too. Whatever had happened in the last few days must have been difficult for him. She felt sympathy for him in the same moment she wanted to riddle his body with deadly and painful curses.