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Draco is an observant man. He notices subtle details that escapes the notices of others. Growing up as the son of Lucius Malfoy, Draco learnt two most pivotal lessons. One, emotions are a weakness. Second, path to power involves exploiting the weaknesses of others, with emotions being the most susceptible vulnerability to target.
That's what a 16 year old Draco believed. But Draco is not 16 anymore. He has lived through a war, fought on the wrong side, and has seen unimaginable death and destruction – even unwittingly contributed to it. Ofcourse Draco's perspective has shifted.
The point is, just like Draco can not undo his past mistakes, he also can not unlearn what he learned as the son of a blood supremist. His capacity for observation and analysis remains intact, but he no longer employs these skills to exploit others.
Draco and Harry started dating 3 years after the war. It was inevitable really, considering how they had always revolved around each other. The general public were surprised, but anyone who knew Draco and Harry weren't.
They had been dating for 4 months when Draco started noticing things. Things that puzzled him. Harry would flinch at the smallest of noise. A door shut a little too loudly, a voice raised a little too high. Draco once tried to ask him about it, but Harry just shrugged his shoulders, laughed a nervous laugh and said, "Ah well, you know."
Not wanting to break their relationship, which was quite fragile at the moment, Draco refrained from pressing the matter. But there were other things. Like how Harry ate food like it would vanish any moment, and how he never wasted a morsel. No matter how burnt or bland or overcooked it was. How he slept curled in on himself, even though the bed was big enough for two people. How he was afraid of darkness, even though he defeated the darkest wizard of all times. How he was terrified of confined places. Nothing made sense to Draco. These weird peculiarities, if Draco may call them that, didn't fit in with the image Draco had of Harry. The bravest, most courageous person. But then again, Harry had been through the worst during the war, had suffered the most, so maybe it did make sense?
Nevertheless, Draco couldn't stop thinking about Harry. He was in love with the man, that was for certain. So how could he not notice these things? Draco asked Harry to move in with him, 8 months after the start of their relationship. Harry agreed, and they started living together. It was lovely, but all the things Draco has tried to push to the back of his mind were blaring with red horns now. He was a healer. All the signs pointed to something big. Something traumatic. It could have been the war, ofcourse. But Draco just knew it wasn't the war. He couldn't explain how or why, he just knew it. The war had left its mark on everyone, but Draco knew the scars Harry carried were a different kind.
They had been lovers of more than 1 year when Harry told him about his childhood. And suddenly everything made sense. Harry had nightmares, more than anyone else probably. But Draco had never seen him look more broken than that one night. They were sleeping. It was just like any other night. Then Draco heard whimpering, small broken cries of "I am sorry" and "Please don't hurt me" and "I'll do better next time". He wasn't even screaming, and yet somehow this nightmare unnerved Draco more than Harry's other nightmares. He looked so small, his face streaked with tears, his body curled in a foetal position as if he was expecting to be hit and was trying to protect himself as best as he can. He kept repeating those same 3 lines, and Draco's heart smashed into a thousand pieces.
It was awful for him to see Harry this terrified. He reached out and shook Harry gently. "Love, wake up. It's me- it's me, Draco. You are safe."
Harry still wasn't waking up and Draco was starting to freak out. His face was contorted in distress, still trapped in his nightmarish turmoil. "Come on, love" he urged, still shaking Harry.
Harry's eyelids fluttered, and with a gasp, he awoke, his chest heaving as he drew in ragged breaths. His gaze focused on Draco, his eyes wide and filled with fear and pain.
"Draco?" Harry's voice was hoarse, his heart still racing as the tendrils of the nightmare began to recede. He was trembling, his arms wrapped around himself.
Draco offered a gentle smile, his fingers now tracing Harry's jawline. "I am here baby. You are safe." Something fractured in Harry's heart on hearing those words, and he broke down right there, great sobs wrecking his body. Draco took him into his arms, rubbing his back and caressing his face. He kept whispering sweet nothings in his ears. Harry was crying in earnest now. After a long time of Draco rubbing and soothing Harry, his sobs subsided, and he tried to pull himself away from Draco's arms, mumbling little apologies.
Draco was having none of that. He pulled Harry back, brought their foreheads together, and whispered "talk to me". They laid down together under the covers, Harry's head under Draco's chin, and it was as if a dam had broken inside Harry. He started telling Draco about his childhood, his abuse and neglect, how he felt so unloved all those years, how he was starved and beaten, how he was treated worse than an house-elf, how he was forced to live in a cupboard, and Draco was furious. Furious at Harry's relatives, at every single person who had allowed this to happen to his Harry. Harry, who deserved nothing but love and care. He kept whispering his past into his chest, eventually tiring himself out and falling asleep. And if Draco held Harry a little tighter, kissed him a little desperately, and resolved to visit Surrey for a private reason nobody needed to know, well, no one was any wiser.