She didn't know why it still shocked her; Draco was not and had never been a saint. Everyone saw the way he loved her—he was scarily gentle with her, like one breath could scatter her like leaves in wind. But when she disobeyed, or displeased him, he was as cold to her as he was to everyone else, though he reserved her punishments for when they were alone. When he wasn't cold he was cruel, and that was oftener.