There was something freeing about talking about their actions during the war, even if it was all very abstract and just a very tiny part of it. Draco had never really gotten to think about what he had done or even why he had done it, but part of him knew that his actions had been driven by the fact that he actually hadn’t wanted the Dark Lord to win the war.<br/>It was quickly becoming clear to Draco that while Potter likely was one of the most powerful wizards that he had ever met, he wasn’t particularly skilled, something that Draco couldn’t relate to at all. He had spent a lot of time honing his craft, doing what he could to stay safe in a house full of people who merely would consider him a casualty if something happened to him.<br/>“I had to do what I had to do,” he stated with a soft shrug, not wanting Potter to feel sorry for him. It had been his own choice to become a Death Eater after all, even if he, of course, had gotten a push from his father to enter the order, the large scar on his right forearm reminding him of that every single day.<br/>“If staying safe meant being a good occlumens then that was what I became,” he stated with a shrug, having always seen his life like that.