For the first time since he'd gone off to Hogwarts, Draco could just be himself around people, and he didn't know what the hell he was supposed to do with that. Hermione told him that it was good, that it was how things were meant to be, but Draco wasn't used to it and it made him feel uneasy. Disconcerted. He'd only just gotten used to dropping all the masks and facades with Hermione without feeling fucking weird about it, and now everyone wanted him to act like some Merlin-damned Hufflepuff and be genuine and friendly all the time. Well, they were sorely disappointed. Draco wasn't going to become someone else in order to fit in. He was...still a Malfoy, he admitted to himself, and he wasn't ashamed of all that being a Malfoy meant, only most of it.