Draco reentered his new living quarters. He didn’t know what to expect, but this was certainly a far cry from the mud shacks he use to image muggles living in.

The first night is always the hardest.

The pressure he felt in his chest was overwhelming. The muggle term, he would later learn, was called a panic attack. The sudden fear of dread washing over you, breathing so shallow just to keep your heart from exploding out of your chest. He felt this before he even knew the Dark Lord had arrived at his house. Knowing that something was going to happen, and it was never good.

The rain had stopped.

In fact it had completely suspended.