It felt strange to call him that.  It felt as if she were talking about someone else.  Draco wasn't the bully from school who'd grown up into a reasonably decent, if secretive, man.   Draco wasn't the near-perfect illusion she idolized when she was in her haze.  Draco sat somewhere between the two of them watching her as if it seemed as odd to him to hear his given name on her lips as it felt to her to say it.  "Is it Draco or Draconius?"  she asked.  "I've never been sure."