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Summary
The war was over, but everyone’s hopes and dreams lay in ruins. Draco Malfoy was slowly destroying himself after a brutal year in Azkaban. Depression had swallowed them all—Hermione chain-smoked like she’d never done before, Ron stayed in bed all day, and Pansy married Blaise while sneaking off to see Ginny on the side. Everything and everyone was falling apart, except Harry Potter.
Strangely, Harry seemed to hold it together. Always carrying a basket of muffins, cookies, or some other homemade treat, his house remained spotless—impeccably clean, like nothing had ever gone wrong.
But when Draco finally returned from prison, all he felt was hatred—for Harry, and for the pity he wore like a second skin. He despised Harry’s hero complex, the way he constantly acted like the perfect savior while hiding the cracks beneath the surface.